


Any Way, Any Day

by PaigeTurner



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amputee, Dimension Travel, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Language, Parallel Universes, Rough Sex, Sex work kinda, Torture, slowest build ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 34,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8436247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaigeTurner/pseuds/PaigeTurner
Summary: Loki has discovered the existence of alternate universes and how to travel to them, but he accidentally takes Steve along for the ride when attempting to claim victory over Midgard once and for all. MCU portions are set between Age of Ultron and Civil War.





	1. Star-Spangled Man with a Plan

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually inspired by a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fic I wrote about a million and twelve years ago, oddly enough.

Steve opened his eyes. An eerie, green luminescence reflected off the vapors of his breath. Wide awake, he bolted out of bed. A pale face gleamed in the otherworldly light. It smiled with entirely too many teeth. _Boogieman_ , the word came, unbidden, to Steve’s mind.

“I had hoped you’d sleep through this. No matter.” The glow intensified and Loki stepped into the column of light. Without a thought, Steve charged in after him.

Steve was standing in front of the heavy bag, hands up, ready to throw another punch. His brow furrowed. Had his vision of Loki been only a nightmare? How had he gotten to the gym? Sleepwalking was new. His racing thoughts were interrupted by a man walking in. Steve’s heart nearly stopped, and his confusion grew exponentially.

“Trouble sleeping?”

“You.” Steve couldn’t stop staring. “You.”

“Captain?”

Steve threw his arms around Coulson and squeezed until he felt a pop. “It’s you.”

“It’s me,” Coulson wheezed, struggling for breath. Steve released him, but kept his hands on the agent’s shoulders.

“Captain.” Phil coughed and smoothed his rumpled suit. “I’m here with a mission.”

“You are?”

“Gotta save the world.”

“Again?”

“You had a seven decade break. I figured you’d be itching to get back in the fight.” He offered Steve a slightly bent folder. 

Steve flipped it open and paled. 

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Where did this come from?” Steve’s voice came out a whisper, he could barely breathe, let alone speak.

“Howard Stark found it in the ocean when he was looking for you. He called it the tesseract. Thought it might be the key to unlimited, sustainable energy. It’s not that I disagree, but if it’s a key, we haven’t figured out what it unlocks.”

Steve’s jaw went slack. The folder. The whole conversation. It was too familiar. “It’s been stolen.”

Phil nodded, still eyeing Steve with concern. “By someone called Loki.”

“There’s a debriefing packet waiting at my apartment, right?”

“You’re figuring out how things go around here.” Phil smiled warmly.

“Why isn’t Fury bringing me this?”

Phil’s smile faltered. “He was taken, along with a scientist we had working on the tesseract.”

“Selvig.”

“How did you know that?”

“I’m figuring out how things go around here,” Steve answered. Tony had made him watch Back to the Future enough times that he knew he shouldn’t change the timeline. “Phil?”

“Captain Rogers?” Coulson’s brow furrowed.

“Stay away from Loki.”

“Okay,” Phil said hesitantly.

“Just trust me on this.”

“Try to get some rest.” Phil patted him gently on the shoulder.

*** 

Steve barely glanced through the packet at his apartment. How had Loki transported them back in time? Why had he taken Fury instead of Barton? It seemed obvious that he was trying to change the outcome of the battle of Manhattan but how? When Steve arrived at the helicarrier the next morning, he was anything but well rested. Hill greeted him with a cup of coffee that he gratefully accepted. Coulson seemed to be running things.

Steve looked around. “Where’s everybody else?”

“Everybody else?” Hill appeared baffled. She looked around, as though taking a tally of all the agents in the room.

“I thought, um, didn’t you guys put together a team for this? Extraordinary individuals?” Steve stammered through an explanation.

“You’re the only extraordinary individual we have,” Coulson replied. “But I’m sure you’re the only one we need.”

Steve’s heart sank. “What about Stark?”

“Tony Stark?” Coulson grimaced at the name. “I guess we probably could contact him but, well, he’s very busy...”

“And frankly, we don’t want him to get his hands on the cube,” Hill added.

Odd. Steve tried again. “Dr. Banner?”

Coulson and Hill exchanged glances. “Banner’s ... a very dangerous individual.”

“But he’s an expert on gamma radiation, a brilliant scientist, surely you could use his expertise.”

“We could,” Coulson agreed quickly. “In fact, we’d love to have him but it’s just not safe.”

“We don’t even have any agents willing to take the risk to bring him in.”

Steve hadn’t considered that. “Romanoff?”

“Who?” Hill had a blank expression.

“What about Agent Barton?”

Hill turned to Coulson for guidance.

“Are you feeling okay, Captain?” Phil stepped closer. “Maybe you should stop by med bay just-”

“No, I’m fine.” Things were worse than Steve had expected. “Just, um, run the face trace thing. That’s what you’re doing, right? You’re waiting for Loki to show his face. When he does, call me. I have to look into something ... else.” Steve hurried back across the flight deck and debarked the helicarrier.

No Avengers. Loki had somehow transported him to a world with no Avengers. That was how he would win the battle. There would be no battle. Without a real destination in mind, Steve straddled his motorcycle and let the streets take him where they would.

He found himself at a familiar intersection and quickly discovered that there was no Stark Tower either. Things were getting stranger. He settled in at a cafe across the street from where the tower should have been and pulled out his phone. It only took a few minutes to determine that all of the numbers in his contacts list were out of service. At least he managed to connect to the cafe’s WiFi. He found an address for Stark Industries and headed out.

When the GPS lead him far out of the city, Steve began to doubt that the phone was working properly. He didn’t have any other leads, so he kept going. Nearly three hours later, he was outside a gate in the middle of nowhere. He pressed the call button.

“How may I be of assistance?” The familiar voice of JARVIS was such a welcome relief, Steve nearly wept.

“I need to see Tony -- Mr. Stark.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Mr. Stark only takes visitors with advance notice.”

“No, please, I’m Steve Rogers, and I need his help.”

The speaker was silent for a long time. Thunder rumbled ominously, and a few sparse drops of rain hit the motorcycle.

“Captain Steve Rogers?” It was Tony’s voice that came through the call box.

“Yes.” Steve nodded vigorously. He wondered if there was a camera on the call box.

“Leader of the Howling Commandos?”

“Yes.” He nodded less enthusiastically.

“Star-spangled man with a plan?”

Steve sighed, shoulders sagging. “I didn’t write the song.”

“Gate’s open.”

There was a click and a buzz as the gate popped ajar. It was a long drive from the gate to a spartan, unmarked, concrete bunker nestled into a hillside. Steve spent the whole time feeling like he was being watched. The drive terminated at a parking lot with a handful of spaces marked “Visitor.” He parked the bike and walked to the door. A heavyset, bored-looking security guard admitted him to the building and directed him down the hall.

Steve had been expecting a lab or a workshop. He’d seen Tony’s spaces before. This was a large but cluttered office that smelled like ammonia and gin.

“I thought you’d be older.” Tony looked rough - hadn’t shaved in five days or bathed in three rough. He wore a shirt so threadbare there was a hole at the edge of the arc reactor’s frame and sat at a desk littered with crumpled papers and empty liquor bottles. “Like, a lot older.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Are you really him?”

“Yeah. After my plane crashed in the arctic, I was frozen until pretty recently. I guess that, plus the serum, is why I didn’t age.”

“That’s a new one.” Tony leaned back in his chair. “Prove it.”

Steve sighed. “I don’t have time to prove it, Tony. Loki has the tesseract and I need your help to stop him.”

Tony frowned. “Did you just have a stroke? Because those words don’t make sense. What’s the tesseract? Who’s Loki?”

“None of this makes sense.” Steve decided to lay his cards out on the table. “I think I’m from the future.”

“Time travel,” Tony mused.

“In the near future, we save the world. Now, we need to get to it.”

Tony barked a bitter laugh. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“Are you or are you not Iron Man?”

Tony braced his hands against the desk and pushed his chair back. He didn’t stand. His hands dropped to his sides and slowly, he rolled out from behind the desk. “I’m not.”


	2. Robin Hood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve begins assembling the avengers. He starts where Fury started...with Iron Man.

Steve’s jaw dropped. The blanket over Tony’s lap didn’t hide the fact that the legs beneath ended somewhere around the knee. He stared at the wheelchair.

“You’ve got the wrong guy,” Tony repeated.

“I didn’t know. How?”

“Get out.” Tony rolled his eyes and waved Steve away.

Steve shook his head. Tony’s condition was a distraction, nothing more. “I still need your help.”

“I can’t!”

“I need your brain. I need your heart. Tony, I don’t need your legs. We can still do this.”

“My brain is pickled and my heart is -- I don’t have one. Get out.” He began searching for something to throw. 

“Your father pulled the tesseract out the ocean long ago. It’s an energy source powerful enough to wipe out the planet. I need you.”

“Why?” Tony looked up at him.

“Who knows more about energy sources than the brains behind that?” Steve pointed to the arc reactor in Tony’s chest. 

Tony considered the question for a moment and Steve sensed that appealing to his ego had been the right move. 

“You can help me.” Steve swallowed his nerves. “Out of curiosity, do you have a suit?”

“Armani?”

“Armored.”

Tony smirked; he leaned forward conspiratorially. “Are you really Captain America?”

“Yes.”

“Can you keep a secret?”

Steve nodded. He had the impression that Tony had been waiting for an opportunity like this. The gleam in his eye was familiar. He lived for the excitement, the rush, the attention, and soon the adulation. Tony loved a big reveal. The floor in the center of the room opened and a shining red and gold suit of armor rose from the darkness.

Steve whistled appreciatively. “That’s more like it.”

“I haven’t tested it since I redesigned the legs,” Tony admitted. “But I can test on the fly. Where do we start?”

Steve had no idea what he was doing. He knew, or rather, felt, that he needed to get the Avengers together to stop Loki. To recruit Banner, he needed Romanoff. To recruit Romanoff, he needed Barton. “We need to find a man named Clint Barton.”

“Do you have anything besides a name?”

“He’s from Iowa and he’s the best shot since Robin Hood.”

“Robin Hood, huh?” Tony gave him an amused look. 

“You’ll see when we meet him.”

Tony wheeled himself back to the desk and offered Steve a tablet computer. “By all means, let me google that for you. Come on, you’re helping.”

Steve cleared trash off a chair on opposite side of Tony’s desk. He fired up a search engine on the tablet and stole a glance across the desk. Tony seemed absorbed in his own efforts. Steve’s curiosity got the better of him, and he began searching for more information on Stark. It wasn’t hard to find. There had been a car accident, May 2010. Tony had lost both legs and killed two people.

“Is this him?” Tony turned his screen to show Steve an image.

Steve looked up guiltily. “Yeah. That’s him.”

“You okay?”

“I…,” he looked from Tony to the screen. “I read about your accident.”

“Yeah, you and everybody -- wait, you mean just now. You didn’t know. You really are from somewhere else,” Tony marveled.

“What happened?”

“Obviously reading comprehension isn’t your strong suit.”

“I meant how did it happen?”

“Must’ve been a crappy article. I was drinking. And driving. The exact thing everyone tells you not to do ever. As it turns out, there’s a reason for that. I took my eyes off the road for a minute, just a second, really, just long enough to pick up my drink. And then I was waking up in the hospital.”

“Why?”

“Because I wasn’t lucky enough to kill myself in the wreck.” His bitterness was a punch in the gut.  

Steve winced. “Why were you drunk? Where were you going?”

“I did a lot of stupid things.” Tony shrugged. “Still do, actually. This slows me down a bit.” He patted the wheelchair. 

“This seems like a level beyond your usual recklessness.” It was true. Whatever issues he had with Tony, putting others in danger wasn’t his style. 

“I was dying. I was dying and I didn’t think anything else mattered.” Tony put his hand over the arc reactor. “The same thing that had saved me was poisoning me and I had alienated the only people who cared about me and I thought I had nothing to lose. I was so wrong.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Did you read about the other car?” He didn’t give Steve a chance to respond. “There was another car. That I hit. Everyone inside was killed. The driver. He was a good driver, but I crossed the median and he had nowhere to go and no time to react. He died instantly. And the woman. The beautiful, perfect woman in the passenger seat. The love of my life. Died three days later. Never woke up.”

“Pepper,” Steve said softly. Suddenly everything about this Tony Stark made sense. “I’m so sorry.”

Tony looked up at him, startled. “No one else called her Pepper.”

“That’s what everyone calls her. I don’t even know her real first name.” In that moment, Steve saw it in Tony’s eyes that he truly believed Steve was he who had said he was.

“It was Virginia. Maybe if I can save the world,” Tony mused, “maybe that’s a start.”

***

He popped the lock and waited, tense. No alarm. Clint quickly stashed the stiff piece of wire and opened the car door. He’d spotted the iPad on the seat walking past and he grabbed that first. Stuffing it into his backpack, he rifled through the front seat. Spare change from the center console went into his pocket. There was a small plastic baggie in the driver’s side door pocket. Clint opened it and took a quick sniff.

_ Not oregano. Smoke or sell?  _ He was moving back to put it in his backpack when he heard a voice.

“Is this your car?”

_ Shit. _ Clint dropped the baggie onto the floorboard. “No.” He emerged from the car and straightened up. The man was tall, blond, clean cut and authoritative.  _ Plainclothes cop _ , Clint guessed. “Nah, it’s my friend’s. He asked me to come out and get his phone.” He held his hands slightly in front of him, open, palms out, making it obvious he wasn’t armed.

“Is that so?” The man clearly wasn’t buying it.

“Yeah, but I can’t find it. He lives right over there.” Clint pointed to an apartment building behind the man, probably a pretty good guess for the owner of the car’s habitat.

Steve glanced over his shoulder in the direction Clint had gestured and Clint took off running. Steve sighed. He let Clint get a fair head start before chasing him down. It didn’t make any difference.  

“Hey!” The man’s hand closed on Clint’s arm.

_ Shit this guy’s fast. _ Clint turned and immediately swung at him.

Steve had never sparred or fought Clint. It wasn’t that he was egotistical, but he knew the serum gave him an advantage far beyond even the most dedicated training. All that having been said, Clint was a helluva lot tougher than Steve expected. He was strong, he was fast and while Steve didn’t want to hurt him, the feeling most certainly wasn’t mutual.

“Clint! Clint! Please stop.”

He stopped. “How do you know my name?”

“I’m Steve Rogers, I’m from one possible future and I need your help to save the world.” Clint’s eyes widened. He struggled wildly and it was all Steve could do to restrain him until he’d exhausted himself. Which in and of itself took a good long while. Steve made a note to stop underestimating his unenhanced teammates. “Please. I know it sounds crazy, but I really need your help.”

“Hey!” Tony shouted as he approached. He moved slowly and stiffly on the prosthetics, but had deemed it less humiliating than the wheelchair. “Do you know who I am?”

“Should I?” Clint was winded, eying them both with suspicion.

“I’m Tony Stark.”

Clint looked him over more carefully. “Fuck me, you are.”

“I want to hire you to help us save the world.” Tony grinned.

“Hire me?”

“Hire him?” Steve looked at Tony dubiously.

“Sure, why not?”

“What’s it pay?” Clint demanded.

“Negotiable,” Tony countered.

“What do I have to do?”

“Save the world. You get to be a hero and you can pocket enough cash to set yourself up for life.”

“I’m in.”

“Rogers?” Tony looked at Steve expectantly. “What’s next?”

“Um. Russia, I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is neither the first nor the best "amputee Tony Stark" fic out there. I read a fantastic one a few years back in which he'd lost his legs in Afghanistan.


	3. The Creature With Many Heads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint has standards, it's crazy not to drink, and Steve appeals to Natasha's sensibilities.

“I know a fence with some ties, sorry, some alleged ties to the Russian mafia.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Tony asked, pouring himself a glass of scotch.

“It’s a tenuous thread, but I guess we’ll give it a try.” Steve frowned. “Could you not?”

“So far your dream team is an alcoholic double amputee and a career criminal, I think not drinking under these circumstances is crazy.”

Clint nodded. “Pour me one too, Stark.”

Steve averted his eyes. “How do we talk to your guy?”

“I’ll go see him.” Clint watched Tony pour. “Little more.”

“I’d like to go with you,” Steve pressed. 

Clint scoffed. “Well, you can come with me or you can get the information, if there is any. You can’t have it both ways.”

“Her name is Natasha, erm, Natalia Romanova. She might use the alias the Black Widow. Hopefully, she’s a master spy and assassin.” Steve wasn’t sure what he was going to do if Natasha wasn’t up to recruiting Banner. When Clint headed out a few hours later, Steve tailed him. He made sure that Clint was going to come back, then hurried to get to the hotel first.

Steve tried to act casual when Clint walked in. “What did you find out?”

“IPads aren’t worth as much as they used to be.”

“About Natasha,” Steve clarified. He thought his usual team was hard to handle. These two were testing every ounce of his patience.

“Not Bratva. She apparently works for some shadowy super-secret intelligence organization. Abram called it ‘the creature with many heads’ which is kinda cool.”

“Hydra.” Steve’s heart sank. “Did he have any idea how we could find her?”

“Apparently some American shadowy super-secret intelligence agency was crowing about killing her over a decade ago. Then she popped back up. So she might be immortal. Or she might be dead or she might be a ghost or she might have slept with and then killed Abram’s brother.”

“That’s less than helpful,” Tony observed. “Drink?”

“I’m going to need to go back to SHIELD for help,” Steve muttered.

“SHIELD? You’re working with SHIELD?” Clint’s eyes narrowed, his shoulders tense. His hand clenched and unclenched in a fist.

“Yeah, I-”

“I won’t work for SHIELD. I told those bastards no. I’m not working for SHIELD,” he reiterated.

“Relax,” Tony said. “You’re not working for SHIELD. You’re working for me, remember?”

Clint was glaring at Steve, waiting for some defense.

“Why wouldn’t you work for SHIELD?”

“They wanted me to kill for them.” Clint let the statement hang in the air for a moment. “I’m not a killer. Is that what you want? That’s how you knew my name, you heard about me from your friends at SHIELD. I won’t do it.”

“Aliens,” Steve said. “If we can’t prevent Loki from opening the portal, we have to fight aliens.”

Clint looked from Steve to Tony, agitation turning to something else. “This guy’s nuts.”

Tony shrugged.

“I’m not,” Steve pleaded desperately. “Please. Just...give me a little bit on faith, and you’ll see. I’m not asking you to kill anyone. I’m asking you to save everyone.”

Clint sighed. “You pouring me that drink or not, Stark?”

Steve waited until both Clint and Tony were passed out drunk before calling SHIELD. “Any sign of Loki?”

“Nothing yet. How’s your...thing coming? What are you doing anyway?” Phil asked.

“Taking a chance. I need some help tracking down a woman who may be working for Hydra.”

“Now? Captain Rogers, I think we have slightly bigger fish to fry.”

“Believe me when I tell you we don’t. Natalia Romanova. I need to find her yesterday.” He glanced through the doorway at Clint.

“How do you know about her?”

“It’s a long story.” Steve rubbed his temples. “Very long.”

“They call her the Black Widow, Captain. She’s dangerous.”

“More dangerous than Banner?”

“Dangerous in a different way.”

“Well, she’s going to help me save the world.” Steve wished he felt as confident as he sounded.

“She’s really not.”

Steve was booking a flight to Moscow when his phone rang six hours later. “Rogers.”

“Coulson.”

“You found her?” Steve’s spirits rose.

“We found Loki.”

Steve winced. “Munich?”

“How did you know that?”

If this world had its own version of Steve Rogers, he might end up in an asylum when this was over. “I just know. Don’t engage. Let him do his thing.”

“You said to call you when we found him. He’s killing people out there.”

“We’re not ready.”

“For what? Steve! Get ready. This is going down right now.”

“I need Romanoff.”

“She was spotted in Budapest a week ago. How many people should I let Loki kill while you’re chasing her down?”

 

“Send in a team, try to get the civilians out of the line of fire. I’m sorry.” Steve’s head was spinning as he hung up the phone. Previously, Loki had allowed himself to be captured in Munich because he wanted access to the Hulk. But Banner wasn’t on the helicarrier, so what did he want this time?

“Hey.” He tried to wake Tony gently. “I need your brain.” He’d dug the mission packet out of his bag. “I need you to read this and make sense of it.”

“Coffee,” Tony replied, opening one eye a slit.

“Please. This is the tesseract. Loki’s going to use it to open a portal into outer space. I need you to figure out where.”

“You’re the one from the future, shouldn’t you already know where he’s going?”

“The place he used in my time doesn’t exist here. We need to figure this out and we need to get to Hungary and find Romanoff. We’re running out of time.” Steve’s voice was quiet but the urgency in his tone couldn’t be missed. 

Tony sat up. He looked at his hands. “You’ll notice I still have no coffee. Get me some. I’ll call my pilot and have him fuel up the jet.”

Tony read while they traveled, and Steve swiped through his phone, trying to find a clear photo of Natasha. He found himself missing her smirk and the way she tilted her head when she was teasing him. He tried to imagine her as Hydra, as his enemy, and couldn’t. He settled on a picture that showcased the smirk and sent it Clint and Tony.

“What’s this?” Tony set the papers aside to look the screen of his phone.

“How many languages can you say ‘have you seen this woman?’ in?”

***

Steve had spent hours showing the photo to anyone who would look his way. The strangers shook their heads and hurried away. Long after Clint and Tony had abandoned the search to drink and play cards, Steve persisted. It got dark, and he got lost, and finally he hailed a cab to take him back to the bar where he’d last seen the other two.

The taxi was waiting at an intersection when the door opened and the woman got in. “Who are you? Why are you looking for me?”

Her hair was a warm, honeyed blonde hue with long bangs sweeping over her forehead. The line of her mouth was hard, set in stone. She had a haunted, hunted look in her eyes.

“I’m Steve Rogers and I need you.”

One eyebrow twitched upward. Until that moment, he hadn’t been convinced that this was Natasha. Suddenly, he saw her. Then he noticed the gun.

“Stop trying to find me, or I will end you.”

“Please, don’t. I ... I’m unwell,” Steve stammered. “I’m suffering from delusions. I think I’m from an alternate dimension. A parallel universe. In that reality, in my delusion, that is, we save the world together.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Who sent you?”

“I sent myself.”

Natasha’s brow furrowed. “Who do you work for?”

“The Avengers.” Steve knew that if he said SHIELD she’d be gone and he’d be nursing a bullet wound.

Curiosity tempered her suspicions. “What do you avenge?”

“The people we can’t save. Natasha, you are absolutely critical to us saving the world. You bring in arguably our most powerful ally. You outwit our enemy. You free a man imprisoned and brainwashed by Loki, not only saving his life but sparing countless others who would have been his victims. You ... you close the portal. You save the world, Natasha. And I’m here to help you.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You have red in your ledger. Come with me and start wiping it out.”

Slowly, Natasha holstered her gun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment when Steve is passionately describing to AU Natasha her role in the Avengers is when I realized this was going to be a Romanrogers fic.


	4. Extraordinary Individuals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Steve and Phil recruit a couple of extraordinary individuals to the Avengers

“What’s the mission?”

“Convince Dr. Banner to help us,” Steve said earnestly.

“In your delusion is Banner a giant, incredibly powerful, and terrifying monster?” Natasha’s hand rested on the handle of the cab door.

“Yes, but, you have to trust me on this.”

“I just met you,” Natasha scoffed.

“He listens to you.”

“And I don’t trust anyone.”

“The cube emits gamma radiation, the same thing that turned him into the Hulk, we need the scientist, Dr. Banner, to find the cube.” Steve kept looking from her face to her hand, waiting for her to open the door and leap out of a moving taxi to escape his mad scheme.

“But you get the other thing too.”

“The Hulk isn’t a thing.”

“Why would he listen to me?”

“That’s between you and him,” Steve replied. He wished he had an understanding of how it was Natasha manipulated people so effortlessly. For the first time, he saw a hint of a smile play across her lips.

“What do you think? Stay blonde? Go red? Brunette?” She touched her hair lightly.

“Red.”

“I’ll need to make a stop before I can go.” Natasha leaned forward and spoke to the cabbie in Hungarian. The driver took the next left and cab wove through the narrow streets into a residential area. Natasha got out and looked at Steve expectantly.

“Come up,” she instructed. “Tell me more about the doctor and the cube.”

“The cube is an energy source possibly, no, probably alien in origin…” Steve began reciting everything he could remember about the tesseract as he followed her up into a small apartment. He was in the midst of explaining Loki’s plan when she took off her hair and he forgot what he was saying. The wig wasn’t a shock. Natasha’s close-cropped natural locks weren’t a shock. What shocked Steve were the stripes of scar tissue crisscrossing over her scalp: thick, glossy ribbons of flesh where the hair would never grow again.

Natasha was busy washing the wig in the bathroom sink.

“What happened?” He stepped in close. He saw the shift in her weight, the sudden tension in her shoulders at his proximity.

“Hm?” She pretended not to notice him but a current ran through her, primed to defend herself.

“Your head, what happened?” Steve clenched his hand into a fist to stop himself from touching her.

She turned just far enough to eye him with suspicion. “I was shot.”

“In the head? How is that even…? And you lived?”

“It is possible to survive such an injury. In your delusion, Natasha wasn’t shot?”

“It was SHIELD, wasn’t it? They sent someone to kill you and they nearly succeeded.” Because it wasn’t Barton. Natasha nodded and slipped past him. Steve didn’t move. He stared at the blonde wig, floating in the sinkful of slowly-draining water.

“I was ambidextrous before. I don’t have the finesse in my left hand anymore. Nor the strength. I’m mostly recovered. I’m still useful.” She had put on a fresh wig cap and was combing her fingers through a wavy red wig. “The bullet went through the right side of my brain, so my left side is…” She shrugged. 

Steve watched the gesture, noticing how her left shoulder didn’t respond the same way as her right. 

“And there’s damage to the parts of the brain that govern emotions and behavior and tactile sensation and response. Not being able to feel has been an advantage in some ways.” She smiled but only the right side of her mouth turned up. It was the same crooked smirk he’d seen on Natasha’s face a thousand times. He found it disturbing in this context. 

Natasha leaned in towards the mirror to artfully arrange the wig on her head. When she was done, not only did it look completely natural, it looked almost exactly like her hair had the first time they’d met. “You were saying something about a portal?” she prompted.

“Right. I’m not sure where it’ll be, that’s why it’s so important to find Dr. Banner.” Steve continued filling her in while she finished washing the blonde wig and propped it on a stand to dry.

As she locked up her apartment, she hesitated. “The woman in your delusion, the one who saves the world….”

“You,” Steve insisted.

“Do you love her?”

Steve had no idea what to say. He just stood awkwardly in the hallway, beneath a light that kept buzzing. Natasha looked at him expectantly. 

“She’s my friend.”

Natasha nodded, seeming to accept that answer. 

Steve was no longer concerned about altering this timeline, it was clear that things needed to change. He had no idea what to expect from Bruce, but he was relieved that Natasha had mentioned the Hulk. He really did need both parts of Banner’s personality. There was no glint of recognition when Steve introduced Natasha to Tony and Clint.

“We still need to find Banner before Loki is ready to open that portal. I’d like to stop him before he does it, but if we can’t, we’re going to be in for a fight.” Steve kept his voice low. He was pretty sure he was going to end up carrying Tony out of the bar. He’d gotten there just in time to interrupt Clint and Tony’s attempt to hustle some locals at pool.

“You know where he is, though, right, Future Guy?” Clint asked.

“I know where he would be if this was the reality I was used to,” Steve clarified. “Obviously things are different here.” He looked at each of them in turn.

“We don’t dare approach him, but we keep an eye on him,” Natasha admitted.

“You-” Steve was interrupted by his phone ringing. Coulson. “I have to take this.” He stood up, quickly making his way out of the noisy bar. “Hello.”

“Hi, Captain. Good news.”

“I could use some,” Steve replied.

“Thor managed to capture Loki. He doesn’t have the cube, but Thor’s bringing him to us for questioning. I got you another extraordinary individual.” Phil sounded very pleased.

“He’s bringing Loki to the Helicarrier?”

“We’re confident that we have the facilities to detain him and question him.”

“Leave now.” Steve’s hands were cold.

“What?”

“Get off the helicarrier. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just...get somewhere else. Anywhere that Loki isn’t.”

“Sir, I can’t just up and leave. In Fury’s absence, I’m the acting director. I have to be here when Loki is brought in.”

Images of a bloodstained wall flashed through Steve’s mind. Maybe he couldn’t change the timeline. Maybe some things would happen no matter what he did.

“Captain?”

“Stay away from him. I’m coming.” Steve was still shaking when he came back to the others.

“You okay, Rogers? You look a little pale,” Tony said.

“Somebody’s going to die and I can’t save him.”

“Even if we left now?” Clint asked.

“I can get Banner,” Natasha offered.

“I can’t send you alone. I have no idea how dangerous he is in this world.”

“Then we split up,” Clint said decisively. “You and Stark go save a life, I’ll tag along with her to fetch Banner.”

Steve weighed his options. Keeping Clint away from Loki seemed prudent. Maybe if he got Tony to the helicarrier, they could start working on finding the tesseract. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playing fast and loose with the facts when it comes to traumatic brain injuries. I did some research and then pretty much decided that I'm just going to do whatever works best from a story perspective.


	5. Infinite Possibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha persuades the Hulk to join them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings/Tags: Rough sex, vaginal sex, oral sex. AU Natasha/AU Hulk, not-shippy. I'm not going to tag Bruce/Natasha because there is not a relationship between them, other than as co-workers. I will also not apologize to people who don't bother to read this note and get upset because Nat's with someone other than Steve. Thanks.

Steve decided that when he got back to his reality and was telling the rest of the team about his adventure, he’d leave out the part where Tony had to suit up and carry him to the helicarrier. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Don’t mention it.” Tony popped up the faceplate. “No, like, really, don’t ever mention it.”

“Coulson!” Steve called out, waving down the agent.

“Captain.”

“Where’s Loki?”

“We have him in a holding cell, Thor’s working with security.”

Steve nodded his approval. “Stark’ll go with you to the bridge, you have to land this thing as soon as possible.”

“We’ve already begun our descent,” Phil explained.

“You might be descending a lot faster than planned, go with Tony.” Steve headed into the helicarrier’s depths.

“Thor!”

The towering blond Asgardian looked at him in confusion. “Do we know each other?”

“Only by reputation. Steve Rogers.” He offered his hand.

“I am sorry for the trouble my brother has caused.” Thor shook his hand vigorously.

“You don’t know the half of it. I need to talk to him.”

“I have warded his cell to better contain him. It should be safe now.”

***

“Let me see your ID.”

Clint frowned at the woman. “Why?”

“Because we need to travel and I need to know if I should get you different papers,” Natasha explained. He begrudgingly handed over a passport. She frowned. “Did you print this yourself?”

“No.” Clint sulked a little. “My brother got it for me.”

“Are you really American?”

“Born and raised. Corn fed Iowa beef.” He gave her a grin.

“Is that what passes for a pick-up line in Iowa?” She handed him back his passport. “It’ll do.”

It was nearly a four-hour flight, plus time spent waiting at the airport. Clint thought Natasha was starting to warm up to him by the time they got to Saint Petersburg. Banner lived outside the city by a fair jaunt. It was dusk by the time they arrived at the cozy little house nestled on the outskirts of Sertolovo. The temperature had dropped with the sun, but Natasha wore no coat, just a thin, sleeveless sweater and -- as Clint observed -- no bra. The peaks of her nipples were visible through the fabric and he made no effort not to stare.

“Wait in the car,” she instructed.

“How am I supposed to be your backup if I’m in the car?” he objected.

“If things go badly, there is nothing you can do to help me.”

“Then leave the keys.”

Natasha nodded and left them in the ignition as she got out. She knocked on the door. The man who opened the door wore a suit that was absolutely not off any rack. He was broad as a truck, with skin the color of wet cement. Clint suddenly realized that the man they’d been referring to as Banner was the legendary mafia enforcer known as the Hulk. The woman had been right: if things went badly, there was nothing Clint could do. 

“Can I help you?”

“I’ve been told that you can,” Natasha answered, pushing back her fear. “May I come in?” The giant of a man nodded and stepped aside, closing the door behind her.

***

“What have you done?”

“I’ve been expecting you.” Loki grinned.

“What is this? Some sort of parallel dimension?”

“The universe is filled with infinite possibilities.”

“Was getting captured still part of your plan?” Steve really wished that he had Natasha here for the interrogation.

“It doesn’t matter. The outcome will be the same. I’m learning from my mistakes. No bragging. No showboating. I’m simply going to kill every last one of you.”

“Where’s the tesseract?”

“Where’s your Hulk?” Loki countered.

“He’s coming. Don’t worry. We’ll all be there to take you down.”

***

The man sat down on a couch that groaned in protest under his weight. He was barefoot, an odd contrast to the tailored and sharply-pressed suit. His feet were huge, finding shoes to fit was surely a challenge. 

“You have a doctorate in nuclear physics, right?” 

He chuckled. “Sweetheart, do I look like I got a doctorate in anything?”

“Do any accredited universities offer a degree program in breaking bones?” Natasha asked. 

He snorted with laughter. “You want the little guy. Bobby Banner. Sit.” He gestured to an overstuffed armchair. 

Natasha perched on the arm of the chair. His eyes traveled up the length of her legs, fixing for a moment at the hem of her skirt. 

“The paper was published under the name Robert Banner. How do I talk to him?” 

“You go through me.”

“Our world hangs in the balance. It’s important.”

“So if I say no?”

“I’ll persuade you.”

The man pursed his lips, considering. Natasha slowly crossed her legs.

“Just come with me. You should hear this Rogers guy talk. He’s like a prophet or a politician, he’s so impassioned and he knows exactly how to tell you what you want to hear. But he’s different too.” Natasha watched him intently.

“He’s smart,” the man noted. “Sending you. A little beauty to tame the beast.” He rose from the couch and stepped in close in front of her, putting his massive hands on her hips. “Alright,” he said, slowly pulling the hem of her shirt up to expose her breasts. “Persuade me.”

Natasha watched his face as she peeled her shirt off. This brute had a reputation when it came to women. He squeezed her breast, pinching her nipple and giving it a twist. 

“Turn around.”

There wasn’t much space between him and the chair. She set her feet down between his; her body pressed against him as she maneuvered. She turned her back to him, his proximity forcing her to lean into the chair. His hand pressed down between her shoulderblades, and she leaned over further. He flipped Natasha’s skirt up so it rested on her lower back and stepped back to look her over.

“Nice. You got nice legs. Next time: thigh high stockings, garter belt, no panties.”

Natasha mentally took note of his predilections.

“And higher heels,” he added after a moment’s consideration. “Three inches at least.”

She let her weight rest on the arm of the chair and reached back with both hands, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear. She pulled them down just far enough to expose most but not quite all of her ass and arched her back, sneaking a peek at him over her shoulder. 

He sucked his lower lip in between his teeth and bit down, uttering an appreciative growl. He unfastened his pants and wiggled his hips a little as he pushed them down. “I hope you like it rough.”

Natasha turned her face back to the chair. She wasn’t sure this world was worth it. But Captain Rogers might be. She pulled her panties down further and shifted her legs to let them fall to the floor. “Does it matter?”

“Not really.” His hands wrapped around her hips. 

Natasha braced her hands against the far side of the chair. It was better that she couldn’t see. With the brain damage, if she didn’t actually see something happen, she often didn’t register the pain. He slammed into her with enough force that the chair moved three or four inches. She let out a little cry, more surprised than anything.

He adjusted his grip and the chair moved less with his subsequent thrust. He pulled her towards him as he pounded into her. Natasha moaned, her fingers digging into the cushions as the chair inched over to the wall. He pulled out and picked her up effortlessly. Kicking the chair aside, he turned her to face him and shoved her back against the wall. 

“Most women would’ve passed out by now,” he said. 

“I’m not most women,” Natasha countered. The brief reprieve gave her a chance to gather her strength. 

“You gonna beg me to stop?”

“My safe word is ‘harder’.” She quirked one eyebrow at him. 

A grin spread slowly across his broad face. He slapped her and let go, and she crumpled at his feet. “Open wide.” 

Natasha got up on her knees, closed her eyes, and focused on relaxing her jaw and throat as he pushed himself into her mouth. 

“Eyes open,” he demanded. “Look at me when I’m fucking your face.” He grabbed for her hair.

Natasha caught his wrist, jerking her head back. “Anything but that.”

He frowned. “Anything but what?”

“Don’t touch my hair.”

He laughed. “You’re shitting me, right?”

Her stern glare was enough to give him pause. He slowly, even gently slipped his hand along her jaw and cradled the back of her neck beneath her hair. “Is this acceptable?”

Her answer was to stroke him firmly before parting her lips to take him back into her mouth. The moment of tenderness passed and he thrust into her throat, making her gag. Her eyes watered. He groaned, looking down at her and rocking his hips forward and back. When he finally pulled out, she gasped for air. 

“You’re good,” he said breathlessly. “Go lay on the couch.” 

She stumbled a bit as she made her way across his living room. His pants were tangled around one ankle, he hadn’t even unbuttoned his shirt. He took a moment to undress. She watched with an unreadable expression. 

“You want me to leave the skirt on?”

He shrugged, folding his clothes neatly and setting them on the mantle of the fireplace. The rumors said he was nine or ten feet tall, but Natasha pegged his height at around six and half. He was built more like a creature than a man, with long arms, broad chest and thick waist. She shimmied out of her skirt and laid down as he approached.

He grabbed her legs and pushed them up, nearly folding her in half. Natasha let out a little huff of air. He pressed her shins against the arm of the couch, his powerful hand grinding the small bones in her ankle against each other. She moaned loudly as he entered her. Natasha whimpered, wordless sounds that could have been pleasure or pain. She wrapped her fingers around his massive arms and gazed up at his expression as he fucked her relentlessly. He let out a bestial roar as he finally came. He pushed off the couch so he wouldn’t crush her and collapsed on the floor. The house shook.

Natasha sprawled out on the couch. She listened as his heavy panting settled into quieter but still tremulous breaths. Carefully, she eased herself into a sitting position. There was a man lying on the floor next to the couch. He had pale skin and a slight build and a scar across his ribs. 

“Dr. Banner?”

He opened his eyes slowly. “Oh no.” He sat up. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Are -- do you want me to call for an ambulance?”

“I’m Natasha.” She leaned forward and held out her hand. 

He stared at it uncomprehendingly. “How badly are you hurt? Are you bleeding?” He shifted his weight to his knees to get a better look at her. 

“I’ll be okay.” Hydra had injected her with serum that, among other things, made her heal faster. Her limited capacity to feel made it difficult for her to determine if she was injured, but she'd be surprised if he hadn't at least bruised her. It wouldn't take more than a day or two to resolve any damage.

He put touched her leg lightly, leaning closer. “Let me see.” 

Natasha pressed her knees together and put her hand over the valley between her thighs. “Dr. Banner,” she repeated. “I’ll be okay.”

He seemed to realize all at once that he was perhaps inappropriately close. He sat back and ran his hand through his hair. “Um, I guess you can call me Bruce.”

“Bruce?” Confusion etched a line between her brows. “I thought your name was Robert or Bobby?”

“Yeah, he calls me Bobby. I hate it. I use my middle name, which is Bruce. Can I get you anything? A glass of water? A glass of wine? Dilaudid?”

“I need your help.”


	6. Security Breach

Steve left Loki to stew in his cell. He found Tony in a small lab a floor above. Tony had stripped off the top half of his armor; pieces were strewn across the workbench. Seeing him holding the scepter made Steve’s skin crawl.

“What are you doing with that?”

Tony looked up. “Oh. I’m putting a tracking device on it. I figure if we get desperate, we stage an escape; when Loki gets out, he’ll take this thing and lead us back to wherever he’s keeping the tesseract.”

“That’s brilliant,” Steve said with genuine admiration. 

“Yeah, well, let’s call this plan B. As soon as Banner gets here, we’ll start working on Plan A.”

“I got a text from Clint, they’re on their way.” Steve had no doubt that Loki was waiting for Banner’s arrival to make his next move. At least they’d have to land to pick up the rest of the team. If he could figure out a way to keep them in the water, maybe he could minimize the damage from Loki’s inevitable attack and escape.

He absent-mindedly chatted with Thor while watching the security feed from Loki’s cell. He was surprised to hear that Thor’s midgardian girlfriend was Darcy, rather than Jane, but Thor himself seemed fundamentally the same.

***

Steve lit up like a kid at Christmas when he saw Natasha, Clint and Bruce. The trio had barely set foot on the helicarrier when Bruce grabbed Natasha roughly by the arm. He backed her up to the railing of the deck.

“You didn’t say anything about SHIELD,” Bruce accused her. His face contorted into a snarl.

“I didn’t know,” Natasha replied, keeping her voice calm. She had no idea what to took to turn him into that other thing, but she didn't want to deal with him again. 

Steve stepped between them, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Bruce forewarned him.

“I’m not. Let go.” Steve looked pointedly at Bruce’s white-knuckle grip on Natasha. 

Bruce shook his head violently, almost a twitch. “Don’t try to tell me what to do. It won’t end well.”

Clint had backed way off, watching things unfold from a safe distance. 

Natasha put her hand over Bruce’s, light as a breeze. “You promised.”

“You lied!” He raised his voice.

“She didn’t.” Steve tried to insinuate himself further between them, letting his shoulder brush Bruce’s arm. “I didn’t tell her we were working with SHIELD. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Bruce took a half step to the side, pulling Natasha out from behind Steve. His eyes were wild; his nostrils flared.

“I’ll make it up to you,” she promised, before Bruce could speak. 

“You’d better.” He let go of her with a suddenness that was almost as forceful as the grab and turned his attention to Steve. “Is there somewhere I can work?”

“Inside,” Steve said. “Agent Hill can show you to the lab.” He watched to make sure Bruce headed in the right direction, then gently touched Natasha’s arm where she’d been grabbed. “He’s more volatile here than in my world. Are you okay?”

She was leaning against the railing for support. “You should have told me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I was afraid you wouldn’t come and I need you.” Steve shrank from her with apologetic eyes.

“These people want me dead or worse.” She kept her voice hushed, looking around nervously.

“I’ll protect you. Things will change once we’ve defeated Loki,” he promised. 

Natasha jerked, reaching for her gun. 

Steve quickly put up his hand. “It’s okay.”

“We’re ready to take off. You might want to come inside.” Coulson spoke to Steve but he was staring at Natasha

Natasha shook her head and tried to step back, nearly going over the railing. Steve caught her by the arm. 

“It’s okay,” he assured her.

“He shot me. Steve, he’s the one who shot me.” She touched her hairline self-consciously.

Steve looked at Phil in shock.

Coulson clenched his jaw and nodded, almost to himself. “Should’ve double tapped.”

“She’s working with us now.” Steve drew himself to his full height and tucked Natasha behind him, bringing his shield up. “She is absolutely essential to stopping Loki and recovering the tesseract. She’s not to be interfered with.”

Coulson’s posture softened. His face warmed to a more familiar expression. “Of course, Captain. Good work bringing her here.” He turned and headed to the interior of the helicarrier.

Steve turned his attention back to Natasha.

“This had better be worth it,” she said coldly. 

“It’s the fate of the world.”

“The world hasn’t done much for me lately.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” 

“You can’t hand the tesseract over to them. It belonged to Hydra many years ago, I’ve heard about it before. It’s too dangerous.”

“I know. Thor will carry it back to Asgard when this is over.” He wanted to put his hand on her shoulder, a comforting gesture he wouldn’t have hesitated to carry out with the Natasha of his world, but it didn’t feel right.

“You think the Asgardians can be trusted?”

“We have to trust someone.” He smiled sheepishly.

“I don’t.” She didn’t smile back.

“Thank you for doing this,” Steve offered. It occurred to him that in his world, he’d never thanked any member of the team for their role. He intended to change that if he ever got back. 

“Thank Dr Erskine,” Natasha retorted. “Without the super soldier serum, I might not have survived last night.” She pulled away from him, walking past brusquely, and  left Steve standing baffled on the flight deck.

“Wait, what happened last night?”

Natasha either didn’t hear or pretended not to hear him.

“Seriously?” Clint approached from where he’d been safely observing. “She slept with him. With them. How’d you think she was going to convince him to help?”

“Them?” Steve made no effort to keep the shock out of his voice.

“Yeah,” Clint replied. “Apparently every part of Hulk is proportionate and Banner doesn’t mind sloppy seconds. And if I have to live with that mental image, so do you.”

Steve's jaw hung open.

“Come on, Cap, let’s go save the world.”

***

Bruce glanced at Steve as he joined the others in the lab, and leaned in closer to Tony. “You really think he’s from a parallel universe?”

“I don’t know. People have made weirder claims.”

“If you could travel through time, across dimensions, changing things, would you?” Clint asked.

“Absolutely,” Tony answered. “Wouldn’t you?”

“I’d definitely do a better job following lab safety protocols,” Bruce admitted. “What would you change, Tony?”

“I’d save her if I could.” His voice was soft, his expression distant. 

“Her?” Bruce said.

“And if you couldn’t?” Natasha asked.

“I’d tell her that I love her. I’d say goodbye, at least.”

“I’m sure she knew,” Natasha said gently. “Barton?”

“I dunno. I guess if I had it to do all over again, I’d just make different mistakes. Or take the road less traveled or some bullshit.” He shrugged. 

Natasha hopped off the countertop and walked a lap through the lab, checking exits and peering out the windows at the agents walking past.

“Can we talk a minute?” Steve led her out into the corridor. Once they were alone, he found his head swimming with so many questions he didn't know where to begin.

“Are you going to talk or just stare?” Natasha prompted.

“You didn't have to sleep with him,” Steve finally declared.

“He made it abundantly clear that I did,” she countered. “Is that all?”

“You're more than that,” he insisted.

“More?” Natasha scoffed. “I'm not ashamed. You told me to bring him. I brought him. It's none of your business how.”

“And when you told him you'd ‘make it up’ to him?” Steve cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her.

“That's none of your business either.” She smirked. "Jealous?"

She was right, of course. Steve knew he was overstepping, but he didn't care. 

“Do you love him?” Steve asked. 

Natasha snorted. "You are. Shit, if you'd said something in Budapest you could've been first in line."

“Do you even want him? I mean, is there an attraction there?” 

“He’s strong. He has no qualms about using his strength. I'm hoping if I let him fuck me a few more times, he'll feel inspired to step up when SHIELD tries to take me down.”

“I'm here to protect you,” Steve vowed. “You don't need to do that. And you don't -- I'm not jealous. Things will change once we’ve beaten Loki. SHIELD and everyone else will see you for who you truly are.”

“You have no idea who I truly am,” she replied. “I'm not her.”

He hesitated. “I know you're not her.”

“Does she love you as much as you love her?” 

There was no hiding things from Natasha in any world.

Steve stared at the floor. “I told you, she's a friend.”

“I guess that's a ‘no’ then,” she said. “I’m going to attempt to get drunk.” She turned away from him. 

“Barton, pour me one too,” Natasha called out as she let herself back into the lab.

Steve followed with a heavy heart.

“Awesome. Banner?” Clint offered, setting out another cup. 

“There’s no point. I’m incapable of achieving a state of intoxication.”

“I bet I could get you drunk.” Tony took Bruce’s declaration as a personal challenge.

“No, it’s a weird mass-flux thing...”

"So am I but the trying has its own merits," Natasha muttered.

Hill raced into the room. “We have a security breach on the detention level.”

“How did they get to the detention level before tripping any alarms?” Coulson demanded.

“They’re using Director Fury’s security codes.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Okay. Get Banner topside. If you encounter Fury, knock him out. A good, strong blow to the head should break Loki’s hold.” He looked around. There hadn’t been an explosion. Yet.  “The rest of you guard the staff. Tony, suit up.” Steve headed for the detention level.

“I’ll head down the to armory.” Coulson followed Steve out the door.

Hill looked at Dr. Banner. “Maybe, uh, maybe Thor should come with us?” She’d seen footage of Thor in action in New Mexico. If anyone could subdue the Hulk, it would be the God of Thunder.

In the absence of his usual robot entourage, it took Tony a little longer to get into the armor. “Hand me the helmet.” Natasha had just picked it up when something rolled in the doorway.

“Grenade!” Clint shouted, leaping for cover behind a workbench.

Steve was halfway down the stairs when he felt the explosion. He took the remainder two at a time.

***

Armed men in full riot gear flooded into the lab. Knocked down by the force of the blast, Natasha felt a boot on her back. She slowly brought her hands up on either side of her head. Bracing her palms on the floor, she pushed off and rolled to the side. She found herself looking down the barrels of four guns. Glancing around, Clint and Tony were under similar circumstances. One of the agents struck Stark with something that sent sparks writhing over his armor.

“What did you just do?” Tony demanded. “I can't even move my arms, what the fuck did you do?”

Fury strolled in and picked up the scepter. “Not something you want to leave lying around.” He looked at the captive Avengers. “Bring them up.”

***

Loki’s cell stood empty. Steve began his run back through the helicarrier. 

***

“That’s Selvig,” Thor said. The scientist was busy assembling something on the flight deck.

“What’s he doing?” Hill asked.

“It must have something to do with the tesseract.” Bruce stretched his arms. “Let’s go ask him.” As he strode forward, he began to grow and shift.

“Wait!” Thor rushed after him to protect Selvig.

Tony lay flat on his back on the tarmac; Selvig was hooking up the device to the arc reactor. He paid no attention to the grey behemoth bearing down on him. Tony struggled weakly, but the suit still wasn't responding.

Loki reached the flight deck and strode towards the device.

“Not another step!” Coulson warned. 

Loki turned slowly and regarded him with cold eyes. 

“Pretty impressive, isn’t it?” Phil adjusted his grip on the massive weapon. “Even I don’t know what it does.”

Loki’s face twisted into a predatory grin as he approached the agent. “Oh, I know.”

Steve raced forward, punching Loki as he apparated behind Phil. “Not again!” 

Loki staggered back and turned towards the device. “The scepter!” He held out his hand. 

Fury charged towards Loki, scepter in hand. Steve’s shield sailed past him. He ducked and tossed the staff towards Loki. The shield struck Selvig in the head, knocking him out. Natasha sprang into action, catching the scepter in midair. A bolt of fire hit Loki in the back, knocking him several yards across the flight deck. 

“So that’s what that does,” Phil mused.

Clint was busy taking on Loki’s thugs. Hulk joined him. As he slammed one agent into the ground, Steve grimaced.

“They're mind-controlled! Just knock them out! Thor, Get Selvig to safety!” Steve caught the shield as it rebounded. 

“But apparently just once.” Phil was fiddling with the weapon, trying to get it to charge up for another shot. 

Natasha hit Fury with the butt of the scepter. He staggered but was still standing. She hit him again. He fell to the ground, bleeding from his temple.

Hulk grabbed ahold of the machine.

“Wait!” Coulson shouted. “If you tear that apart, you might hurt Stark!”

Hulk let go. With one powerful leap, he landed next to Loki. “And if I tear him apart?”

“No!” Loki bellowed. “Stay back, you beast!” He looked at Steve. “You!” His eyes blazed with fury.

“I told you we would stop you.”

“You haven’t stopped me yet!” 

The Hulk grabbed for Loki and found his hands going through an apparition. Loki’s hands glowed green as scrambled towards the machine, reaching inside. Steve hurled his shield. It stopped in mid air, trapped in green light. The shield flipped over and a beam of light shot down form. Loki paused just long enough to grin at him. He stepped into the portal. Steve leapt after him. The glow began to flicker. The shield began to wobble in the air. Natasha raced towards the faltering column of light.  

***


	7. Two Acorns from the Same Oak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, back in the MCU....

One minute Steve was taking out his frustrations on a heavy bag, the next he was standing in front of a strange man in a darkened bedroom. They both seemed to hesitate at the same time.

“Who are you?” Steve demanded.

“I am Loki of Asgard,” the stranger replied. “And I am burdened with glorious purpose.”

“Purpose?” Steve grabbed him by the collar of his bizarrely unfashionable green coat. “What purpose? What are you doing here?”

“I…” Loki seized his wrist and he had the coldest hands Steve had ever felt. “Where am I?” This was most certainly not where he should be. He’d had the tesseract. He’d had the scientist. And the scepter. “What have you done?”

“Hey, this isn’t my fault!”

Their argument was cut short when the door flew open.

“Freeze!” Tony shouted.

“Didn’t think you’d be fool enough to come back.” Clint took aim with his bow, glaring at Loki.

Natasha didn’t waste air on words. She charged Loki, knocking him out of Steve’s grasp; she pressed her fists against his chest and discharged the full power of both Widow’s Bites. Loki crumpled to the ground.

“You're welcome,” Tony said with a smug grin.

“Darcy Lewis took down Thor with a civilian taser; I appreciate the upgraded bites, but you get no credit for this.” She rolled Loki onto his belly and cuffed his hands behind his back.

“Funny that electricity works on the God of Thunder,” Tony mused.

“What do we do about tall, dark, and evil?” Clint asked.

“We’ll put him in the green room. Cap, you lift?”

Steve didn't react to Tony’s request, he was staring at them with a befuddled look.

“You okay, Cap?” Clint frowned at him.

“Who are you people?”

***

“It’s strange,” Wanda said hesitantly. “His mind does not appear to have been altered and yet … he has no memories at all of any of us or the events of the past several years. It is as though he woke up from the ice only a few months ago.”

“Time travel?” Tony suggested.

“I don’t know,” Wanda admitted.

“I’ll bet Loki’s behind it, whatever it is,” Clint wagered. “Can you get into his mind?”

“That seems like an unnecessary risk,” Vision objected. “Loki’s mind is his strongest point.”

“Vision’s right; that's not a battleground you want to challenge Loki on.” Natasha agreed. “We should talk to Thor.”

“Well, by all means, let me get on the space phone and call him.” Tony rolled his eyes. “We don’t have a way of contacting Thor.”

“You haven’t noticed how he just shows up when we need him? Twenty bucks says he’ll be here by morning.” No one took the bet, which was to Natasha’s benefit, since Thor didn’t make his grand entrance until twelve minutes past noon the following day.

***

“Loki.” The disappointment in Thor’s voice was palpable. “What mad scheme have you concocted now?”

“No madness. An alliance in my benefit and a promise to you, dear brother, that I will rule these people as a benevolent king.”

Thor rolled his eyes. “This again?”

“I will put an end to their petty squabbles and unite them under one reign. I will bring them the peace that has evaded Midgard for so long.”

“Peace through tyranny,” Thor scoffed. “Have you not learned that Midgard will not fall so easily? Your reach outstrips your grasp yet again.” He shook his head. “A small part of me is grateful Mother did not live to see the man you have become.”

Loki’s face went slack, his eyes wide, his cheeks pale. In that moment, Thor saw the boy he’d grown up with, frightened and vulnerable.

“What has become of Mother?” he asked in a quivering voice. “When? How?” His tone darkened. “Who?”

Thor’s anger faded into confusion. “You don’t know?”

“Tell me,” Loki demanded through clenched teeth.

“What are your plans for Midgard?” Thor countered. Finally, he had a leg up on his silver-tongued sibling.  


“Tell me about Frigga! What befell her? Why didn’t you protect her?” His voice rose louder and louder, echoing off the steel walls of the cell.

“You first.” Thor remained calm and detached.

“I will tear a hole through time and space and bring an army the likes of which this world has never seen! I will slaughter your precious Midgardians, but I will spare one. Oh yes. I will spare your sweet Darcy and claim her as my own. If not my queen, my concubine. Now, tell me of our mother’s fate.” Loki spat each syllable with the venom of a cobra, his eyes gleaming with fury and desperation.  


“A Chitauri army?”

Loki fumed for a moment. Thor could see confusion begin to form at his use of the Chitauri name.

“Yes.”   


“And you plan to use the tesseract to bring them here?” Thor guessed.  


“It is already in my possession.”

Thor’s demeanor softened. “Our mother was murdered by a dark elf called Kurse. Daily I mourn her still.”

Loki sagged, leaning against the wall of the cell for support.

***

“I have been reading,” Thor began.

“Uh-oh,” Tony muttered.

“There is a theory,” Thor continued, ignoring Stark. “That we all walk many paths. Each step we take creates infinite paths representing the steps not taken.”

“Like a multiverse?” Tony perked up.

“I am not familiar with that term. I speak of worlds like this world, but unlike it,” Thor replied.

“Well, that’s not at all confusing,” Clint groused.

“Do you think Loki somehow accessed one of these other paths?” Natasha asked.

“I do.” Thor looked at the others. “But not the Loki you have in that room.”

“He’s a double! Dammit, he should have a goatee!” Tony exclaimed. He slammed his fist against the table for emphasis.

“I’m pretty sure the Loki from this dimension is the evil one,” Natasha retorted.

“I’m pretty sure they’re all evil,” Clint said emphatically.

“If the Loki we have prisoner isn’t the one responsible, then does he know how to fix it?” Wanda asked.

“They’re connected, right?” Tony looked to Thor for an answer, rubbing his hand.

“They are connected in the same way that two acorns from the same oak are connected. One gets the benefit of the sun and swiftly grows tall and strong. The other grows slower, its branches bent and twisted to gain whatever nutrients it can.”

“Okay, could you give us an answer without a metaphor?” Clint requested.

“It’s a no. They don’t have the same knowledge because they’re from two different environments,” Natasha explained.

“Not entirely. Is the knowledge in the size of the tree, or the shape of its leaves? An oak is still an oak. I don’t know how Loki came to this. There might be many paths that end in the same place.”

“Based on Steve’s memories, he’s walking his path at a different pace or started at a different time: he’s years behind us.” Wanda’s face was etched with concern.

“So we have to wait years for this Loki to figure out that he can travel between dimensions,” Tony guessed.

“But he’s not going to if we keep him locked up here. We’re altering his path,” Vision noted.

“Is anyone else going to comment on how completely insane all of this sounds?” Clint asked.

“You fought an army of robots with a bow and arrow,” Wanda replied.

“And got brainwashed by an alien using a magic stick he got from another alien,” Natasha added.

“And have a secret wife and three secret kids,” Tony said.

“They’re not going to stay secret if you keep talking about them,” Clint snapped.

“I believe their point is: if there are aliens, inexplicable phenomena and inter-dimensional travel, it must be Thursday,” Vision stated.

“I will do more reading,” Thor promised. “Perhaps I can determine how Loki was able to accomplish this. Where is the other Captain Rogers?”

"Other? You think he's from the same universe as this Loki?" Clint asked.

“We stuck him in a cell downstairs, as far from Loki as possible.”

Thor gave Tony an odd look at the admission. “Why do you have cells downstairs?”

“I throw some pretty kinky parties.”

“We’re requiring Tony to build anything that might attain sentience in an environment where it can be easily contained,” Natasha explained.

Thor wasn’t sure which, if either, of them to believe.


	8. The Hidden Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers encounters with AU Steve and AU Loki, and the return of MCU Steve and MCU Loki to their rightful universe. But all is not well....

The door of Steve’s cell opened and a man carrying a plate of pizza walked in.

“Hey. I figured you’d be hungry.”

Steve punched him in the nose. The plate clattered to the floor as both of the man’s hands came up in front of his injured face.

“Son of a-”

Steve punched him in the stomach, or tried to. The man deflected the blow and struck back. Steve shoved him and ran into the hallway. With blood pouring down his face, the man gave chase. Steve ran to the end of the hall and threw open the door, taking the stairs in huge leaps. A girl stepped into his path at the top of the stairs. Her eyes glowed red.

“Sleep.”

Steve collapsed. He fell halfway down the stairs before colliding with Clint, who managed to catch him. Clint looked up at Wanda.

“Thanks.”

“Your face!” she exclaimed.

“Pretty sure it’s broken. Help me get him back in the cell?”

***

Steve’s meals came through a slot in the door after that. They were careful about what they said within earshot of his cell, but they underestimated his hearing. Steve heard them mention the tesseract.

These people, whoever they were, were after the same weapon that Johann Schmidt had been obsessed with. Fury had told him that the general public still considered him killed in action. If these people were Hydra, it would go a long way towards explaining how they seemed to know so much about him.

Steve did calisthenics in his cell and waited for another opportunity to present itself.

***

“Loki has been borrowing books from our late mother’s personal library,” Thor confided. “She knew a great deal about magic.”

“Tell me you brought us a book,” Tony said hopefully.

Thor shook his head. “I have Sif and Hogun attempting an inventory to see what, if anything, is missing. Her library is - was - vast, her love of knowledge boundless. It would take months to even skim through every book.”

“You know, of the two prisoners, I thought Loki would be the troublemaker,” Natasha remarked. “He’s been suspiciously subdued.”

“He’s grieving,” Thor said quietly. “Not knowing he was of another path, I told him of Mother’s death. Now he mourns.”

“And plots, I’m sure,” Clint said.

“I’m not,” Tony objected. “Have you been down there?”

“Not since Rogers broke my nose.”

“He’s genuinely upset.”

***

Loki had figured it out the moment Thor asked him about bridging the many paths. He’d obviously found a way to travel between the parallel planes. And the first thing he would do with that knowledge would be to save Frigga. He couldn’t allow these mortals to interfer. The wards against magic that Thor had placed on the cell were powerful, but his brother had always underestimated him. He couldn’t escape, but he wasn’t helpless either.

Wanda, he called out with his mind.

He waited.

Loki heard soft footsteps in the hall.

“Loki?” Wanda’s voice drifted through the door.

Closer

“You must think me quite the fool.” Her voice was hard. He heard footsteps again, heavier this time, as she stormed away.

“It appears I am the fool.”

***

“Loki!” Clint pounded on the cell door. “You leave Wanda alone! Do you hear me?”

“You’re shouting, of course I hear you.”

“Don’t talk to her. Don’t even think about her.” Barton’s voice dropped to a low growl.

“You can’t hold me forever. If, upon my return to Asgard, I discover that my detention here has cost my mother her life, I assure you Wanda will be the first to know. She will know it when she joins Frigga in the afterlife.”

“Don’t you touch her.”

“I’ll wear your visage when I flay her alive,” Loki promised.

“Friday, open this damn door.”

“Ooh, I’m afraid I’m not able to do that with your authorization, Agent Barton,” the AI said apologetically.

Clint slammed his hands against the door again and headed for the range.

Loki smirked.

***

Steve jumped into the column of light but landed in a small room, furnished with a bed that was bolted to the wall, a toilet and a sink. A cell. He was in a cell. Loki’s enraged bellow echoed off the walls. Steve allowed himself a smile. That sound meant Loki was no doubt in a cell of his own and without the tesseract. That sound meant he’d won.

With nothing else to do, Steve took a few minutes to examine his surroundings more closely. There wasn’t much to see, but it was obvious the walls and door were heavily reinforced. He wiggled the bed frame. In a pinch, he could probably pull a piece of it off to use as a weapon. He thought he was at the compound but it occurred to him that it could be yet another alternate universe.

A couple hours passed with him pacing restlessly. Of course, no one knew that he had suddenly appeared, so there would be no reason for anyone to check on him. He sat down to think through the situation. If he was truly back in his reality, why was he in a cell? He’d been in his bedroom when he went through the portal the first time and he’d ended up in the gym, the same place he’d been when Fury first brought him the Tesseract mission. It had taken him about three days to assemble the Avengers and bring them to the helicarrier to defeat Loki. Steve pulled out his phone. Three days had passed since that night in his apartment.

He stared at the phone for a long moment. He’d tried to call the others when he'd first arrived in the other world, but it hadn’t worked. Steve pulled up his contacts list. He stared at Tony’s name for a long moment, working up the courage to try it. It was ringing. It rang again. He was beginning to fear that Tony wouldn’t answer when he heard music in the hall outside his cell.

“Why are you calling me?” Tony peered through a small window in the cell door.

Steve grinned and set the phone aside. “Boy, do I have a story for you. Get the gang together.”

***

Tony returned with Wanda and Clint, who had a splint on his nose. “Stand up,” Tony ordered. “Turn around and put your hands on the far wall.”

Steve stood slowly. “What’s going on?”

“We’re about to find out.” Clint positioned himself on the side of the door opposite the hinges and readied his bow. “Hands on the wall.”

Steve pressed his forehead to the wall, his hands spread on either side of his head. He heard the door open. He shuddered involuntarily as he felt Wanda in his mind. Her presence was like icy fingers on the inside of his skin. As swiftly as she had invaded, she was gone. Steve was thankful for the wall; he leaned against it for support.

“It’s him,” Wanda said softly. “He’s been busy.”

“Is he dangerous?” Clint asked.

“He’s our Steve,” Wanda answered.

“Can we get everyone together? I want to tell you guys what happened.” Steve’s voice was a little weaker. “And I want to hear what happened here.”

Tony’s hand rested on Steve’s shoulder. “Welcome back.”

***

Natasha was reclining on a bed, holding a book. She closed it and glanced at the cover. White letters spelled out The Hidden Reality. She set the book aside and got up, scanning her surroundings. It was a modest room with simple, functional furnishings. On the dresser was a small sketch of a woman who looked like her. Everything he’d said about another reality was true, and she was there. She pulled open the drawers and found clothing in her size. She quickly changed from the sleek gray suit she wore for combat missions into some of the civilian garb.

She was just finished getting dressed when someone knocked at the door. She shoved her old clothes under the bed before opening the door.

“Clint.” The name felt odd in her mouth. She tried not to fumble over it.

“All that parallel universe stuff was true.” Clint gave her an incredulous grin. “Our Steve is back. Come on.”

“He is? That’s great.” She followed him to the living room, where everyone had gathered. There was no sign of Dr. Banner or the Hulk, for which she was profoundly grateful. There were, however, a few people Natasha didn’t recognize. A minor setback for an experienced spy; she could fake it and observe until she figured things out.

***

“It started three days ago,” Steve began. “I woke up to find Loki in my bedroom.”

“Kinky,” Tony interjected.

“Glowing green.” Steve pressed on, injecting a bit of his command voice into the words.

“Even kinkier.”

“Tony, let him talk.”

“Thank you, Rhodey.” Steve cleared his throat. “He created some sort of portal and went through it, so I followed him. Maybe not the best idea I ever had. Then suddenly, he was gone and I was standing in the gym.”

“So let me interrupt again for a minute,” Tony said. “Three days ago we had a security breach. Found Loki in your bedroom and subdued him, but you were super confused and disoriented.”

“That was the Steve Rogers from their world,” Thor said. “Two people cannot occupy the same place at the same time.”

“That makes sense. I was trying to figure out what had happened,” Steve continued. “When, uh, Agent Coulson came in. He started talking about this mission he had for me, and I realized he was talking about the tesseract, Loki stealing it … everything that already happened three years ago.” The mention of Coulson had made the mood considerably more somber. “Except instead of Barton, Loki had taken Fury and Selvig. When I got to the helicarrier I discovered that there was no Agent Barton and no Avengers Initiative.”

“A world without the enemies who had already bested him once,” Thor observed. “A good place to try again.”

“That’s what I figured.” Steve nodded. “So I put the team together. When it became obvious that he still wasn’t going to win, Loki reopened the portal, and he and I came back here.”

“We pretty much figured out right away that you and Loki weren’t yourselves, so we put you in the cell for safekeeping,” Tony explained.

“Was he a lot different?” Steve asked. “The other me?”

“He was aggressive,” Clint remarked. He pointed to his bandaged nose. “He did this. Why was there no Agent Barton in their world?”

“He didn’t know any of us, so of course he tried to escape. And, well, I looked into his mind when he first arrived, to figure out why he didn’t remember us. I don’t think he liked me very much after that.”

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, Wanda, but that’s not a pleasant experience,” Steve said gently.

“It was the fastest way to find out the truth,” she replied.

“Can we go back to ‘no Agent Barton’?” Clint asked insistently.

“I’ll get there,” Steve promised. “It sounds pretty dumb when I say it out loud, but it didn’t even occur to me to look for Sam or Rhodey or Wanda. I was focused on finding the same people who had defeated Loki the first time around,” Steve admitted.

Natasha carefully observed the subtle gestures, the way Steve looked to each of the strangers as he named them.

“I found Tony first.” Steve looked at Stark solemnly. “You’d had a bad car accident and you had some permanent injuries.”

“Like how bad?” Tony wanted to know.

“You were sadder, more bitter. Colder. Drunker, as impossible as that sounds. I felt like you started doing better once you had something to work on.”

“What about me?” Clint asked.

Steve winced. “You'd never joined SHIELD. It seems like they asked but you said no. You were breaking into a car when I met you. You’re a criminal. He’s a criminal. I mean, small time, and after talking to him , he actually seems like a halfway decent guy. Just one who makes a dishonest living.”

“That’s kind of a let down.”

“Was I a lot different?” Natasha asked.

Steve smiled at her in a way that made her chest feel tight and nodded.

“I’m glad to be back here.”

“Who we should be talking to is Loki. Again.” Tony looked to Thor. “You up for it?”

Thor nodded. “I will speak to him.”

“Will you take him back to Asgard?” Natasha asked.

“First I need to understand both why and how he accomplished this.”


	9. Not One Breath Sooner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve discovers the truth and Loki resolves to be unhelpful

Loki refused to speak.

“It’s no use. He’ll talk when he wants to and not one breath sooner,” Thor said. “He once gave me the silent treatment for a full month.”

***

Natasha found it simple enough to draw on what Steve had told her about her equivalent in this world or to dodge socializing while she learned to fit in. Clint seemed a bit wary of her, but the others took her at face value. And she was safe. She found Steve alone in his room.

“Are you alright? Adjusting to being back?”

“I’m worried about the people there,” he admitted. “I changed things for that world, maybe in a way they weren’t supposed to change. And now I can’t fix it. At the same time, seeing a different outcome, how things could have been, it gave me a better perspective on what I have here.

She put her hand on his chest lightly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

They each leaned in. Steve turned away just before the kiss. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he said softly.

Natasha’s hand slid up to his cheek, turning his face back toward her. “I do.” She held him there and pressed her mouth against is his, her tongue slipping past his lips. He withdrew slowly.

“I thought you and Banner...,” he whispered.

“I have a better perspective too,” she answered, honest but vague. “I don’t want to talk about him. I just want to be with you.”

The next kiss was mutual. And the one after that. Each built upon the last, burning hotter and more intense. She stripped him of his shirt and ran her nails lightly across his skin. Steve shivered at her touch. Natasha’s mouth followed her hands, trailing kisses across his bare chest. Her lips were soft and warm with her teeth right behind to nip at him or suck his flesh against their hard surfaces. She paused just long enough to peel her dress off over her head.

“What’s gotten into you?” Steve asked, taken aback by her sudden boldness.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” It was true. When he’d gone into the portal, she’d thought that was it. “I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“Something isn’t right,” Steve insisted. “You’ve been different ever since I came back and I don’t think it’s just because you missed me. You’ve been avoiding the rest of the team, especially Clint and that’s not like you at all.”

“We can talk later.” She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled him closer.

He touched a fading bruise on her arm and frowned. “What's this from?”

“Sparring,” she lied quickly. “With Clint to relieve stress while you were gone.” She gently redirected his hand from her arm to her breast.

“So if I ask Clint, he'll tell me you two sparred?”

“Do you really want to talk at a time like this?” She fiddled with the button on his pants. “Make love to me.”

Steve gently moved her hand away.

“Steve.” She gave him a coy half smile.

“Use the other one,” he said, still holding her hand.

“What?”

“Humor me, Nat. Use your left hand.”

She winced, closing her eyes and pressing her lips into a tight line. “I can't.” Her voice snuck out in a whisper. “It doesn't have the finesse. I followed you.” She opened her eyes and swallowed hard. “When I saw the green light and you going through it, I followed.”

“Why?”

“I was afraid of losing you.” Her voice shook. “And you promised that I’d be safe, then you just left.”

“I -” Steve looked at her with growing horror. “But if you’re here … then she’s there.”

“Don’t send me back,” Natasha begged.

Steve grabbed his shirt and rushed out the door.

***

“We have a problem.”

Thor held a book bound in blue leather with gold gilt runes on the cover. He and Tony both looked up from its pages when Steve burst in.

“Loki?” Thor guessed.

“No. Not exactly. We have to convince him to reopen the portal.”

“Why?” Tony asked. “Leave your wallet behind?”

“The Natasha from that world followed me through. The woman who’s been living here the past few days is her.”

“Then where’s the real -- I mean, not that she isn’t real,” Tony began.

“Our Natasha is in their world. And she’s in danger.”

“That will only strengthen Loki’s resolve to be unhelpful.” Thor looked back down at the book. “We have to find another way.”

“You don’t understand,” Steve insisted. “Natasha was a Hydra agent and I left her on a SHIELD helicarrier. They think she’s their enemy.”

“That’s not going to end well for anyone involved,” Tony observed.

“I’m going to talk to Loki,” Steve said. “He already knows how to get there. There has to be some way to convince him to help.”

***

“You have to reopen the portal,” Steve declared.

Loki glanced up at him and went back to staring disinterestedly at the wall.

“There has to be something you want,” Steve offered.

Loki didn’t even look at him.

“And if there isn’t, then maybe I can make you want.” Steve’s voice turned colder. “We’ve been feeding you. Bringing three meals a day. Do you even need food to survive? Should we find out?”

Loki’s gaze flicked back in his direction. “Cruelty doesn’t become you. You must be desperate.”

Steve clenched his jaw.

“What’s so important there?”

“I ripped through there like a hurricane, I threw those people’s lives into chaos. I just want to make sure everything is put right.”

“You’re lying.” Loki’s smile broke slowly across his face.

“Just open it.”

“Tell me the truth and I’ll give you a price,” Loki bartered, still grinning.

“We were followed. Someone else came through the portal.”

“You finally noticed,” he said with a chuckle. “It seems you don’t know Agent Romanoff as well as you all pretend to.”

“You knew?”

“It’s my portal, you idiot. Of course I knew.”

“Will you reopen it?” Steve asked.

Loki pondered for a moment. “In exchange for my freedom, I will open it just long enough for you to toss the wretch through and get back your Natasha.”

Hearing the words ‘your Natasha’ from Loki’s lips made Steve’s fist itch. “No. I have to go through first. I have to make sure that when she gets back there, she’ll be someplace safe. I owe her that.”

“Then there’s no deal.”

“What’s the price for me going first and ensuring her safety?” Steve demanded.

“There isn’t one. I won’t do it.”

Steve clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug crescents into his palms. He took a deep breath and walked away.

***

“Loki’s a dead end. Thor was right about him resolving to be unhelpful. Any luck?” Steve asked.

“Not yet,” Tony answered. “This isn’t exactly beach reading.”

“Time is a factor.” Steve practically vibrated with nervous energy.

“Pressure isn’t helping.”

“Tony, you do your best work under pressure.” Steve patted him on the shoulder.  “Keep in mind, once you figure it out, we’ll have to open it twice.”

“Wait, twice?”

“I’m going to go in and get her to safety first. I was actually wondering if you wanted to come with.”

Tony looked at him. “Through the portal? To a parallel universe?”

“I’m going to need a way to open it from the other side too,” Steve pointed out.

***

“I’d kill or die for you.”

Steve was in Natasha’s room, he couldn’t really object to Natasha sneaking up on him. Except that this was the wrong Natasha. He set down the book he’d found on her nightstand. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re safe when you get back.”

“Or I could stay.”

Steve grimaced.

“I’m not saying don’t go,” she added quickly. “Go. Make sure she’s safe there. Tie up loose ends. Say your goodbyes.”

Steve shook his head.

“Can you honestly tell me she’d give you half of what I’m offering?”

In her everyday life, Natasha favored comfortable, casual clothing. Steve was used to seeing her in jeans or leggings, t-shirts layered with a hoodie. This woman favored the kind of miniscule dresses he’d only ever seen Nat wear for a mission. It left little doubt as to exactly what her offer was.

“It’s not about what either of you is offering me,” Steve replied.

“Bullshit,” she snorted. “You want her, I can tell. But you can have me. Won’t you even consider--”

“No.” He stood up. “I won’t. I won’t consider trading her for you just because you’re willing to sleep with me.”

“Oh, Steve.” Natasha approached slowly. “This is so much more than that. I already look like her and sound like her. Give me some pointers, I can act more like her. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.” She touched his chest. “I could fulfill every fantasy you’ve ever had of her.”

Steve swallowed, wondering if she could feel his heart racing. “Do you love me? Or are you hoping that if you let me fuck you a few times, I won’t send you back?”

Her hand slipped around under his arm to his back as she pressed her body against his. She let her head rest against his chest. “I love you.” She tried to sound hurt by his question.

“Even if I believed you, I can’t.” He extracted himself from her embrace. “I’m sorry.”

“She doesn’t deserve you. She doesn’t appreciate you.” Natasha’s eyes glinted darkly. “I hope they are torturing her. I hope she suffers. I hope they scar her for every moment of heartbreak she’s caused you.” Her anger built and it was the most powerful thing she’d felt in twelve years. “I hope you find her broken and defiled.”

She moved to slap him but Steve blocked her hand. His mouth hung open, his lower lip trembling.

“I hope you come crawling back, begging for me.” Natasha’s voice cracked. She wrenched her wrist free of his grasp. “I'll be waiting.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” He backed out of the room and fled.

***

Thor, Tony and Vision were in the lab around the clock. They’d borrowed his shield to experiment on. Thor took meals to his brother, but Loki neither ate nor spoke.

“Do you think Mirrorverse Romanoff would let us run some tests?” Tony asked when Clint came in.

“Probably not, and since she's gone missing, definitely not.”

“Missing?” Vision looked up from his notes in concern.

“Left while I was at the store, hasn't been back.”

“Well, that's what? Half an hour?”

“Tony, I've been back for six hours. She could be anywhere. I just came to tell you that I'm going to look for her.”

“Perhaps Steve should accompany you,” Thor suggested.

“No, I want him through that portal, saving our Nat the second you figure it out. I can go alone.”

***

“Any word from Clint?” Steve asked.

“Not yet.” Tony set the shield on the ground face down, its edges curving up like a bowl. He attached six legs to the rim, converging over the center of the shield where a small disk was suspended from them. The device emitted a quiet hum and began to glow blue.

“Are you sure about this? The portal made a green light before,” Steve said. He was standing in the doorway of one of the cells.

“Yeah, well, blue is kind of my signature color,” Tony replied, tapping his arc reactor. He lowered the faceplate on his armor. “Shall we?”

Steve nodded and stepped into the light.


	10. Some Kind of Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, in another universe...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do want to thank the people who have taken the time to comment. After reading your feedback on the last chapter, I went back in and added pretty much EVERYTHING you see with Clint, Hulk and Tony, necessitating this one chapter becoming two.

There was nothing like reading a book about parallel dimensions only to suddenly be in one. Natasha surveyed her surroundings. It looked like the flight deck of a helicarrier. Loki and Steve were right in front of her, looking every bit as disoriented as she felt. Natasha picked up the scepter at her feet.

A creature that looked like a slightly smaller, grey version of the Hulk grabbed Loki, pulling him away from the device as it powered up. Tony lay on the ground beneath it, helmetless, the armor pried away from his chest and arms. As the machine whirred to life, he paled.

“Thor!” Natasha called out. “We need Selvig to disconnect it.”

“It’s creating a force field to protect itself,” Selvig replied.

Natasha gripped the scepter tighter. “I can get past that.”

Hulk was tossing Loki about like a rag doll. The sky was beginning to shimmer and darken in a small patch above the device. Natasha could see stars through the darkness and they filled her with a sense of dread. She pierced the field with the scepter and there was a flash of light. Thor and Selvig hurried forward to work on the machine.

Hulk loomed over Loki’s whimpering form. Natasha strode over to them and placed the sharp tip of the staff at the base of Loki’s throat. “I’d advise you to stay down.”

With the danger past, SHIELD agents swarmed over the deck. They rushed Tony off to the med-bay and put Loki in handcuffs. The golden restraints covered his hands from wrist to fingertip and were engraved with runes. They muzzled him as he began to protest.

“Put the scepter down,” Phil said firmly.

Natasha set it on the ground carefully, unable to suppress her smile. Coulson was alive. She took a quick glance at Loki, being dragged away, before she took her hand off the staff. She wanted to rush up to Phil and hug him but of course, he wouldn’t understand why. Natasha noticed the agents taking up position around her.

“Step back and put your hands on your head.” Coulson’s expression was stern.

“What’s going on?” Natasha stepped away from the scepter uneasily. She didn’t put her hands on her head, but she raised them in a defensive position.

“You didn’t think we’d just let you leave. We have a lot of questions for you.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. She looked for the rest of her team: Thor was helping deal with Loki, Clint was gone, and Steve was gazing around in confusion.

“I have business with her,” Hulk objected.

“You're lucky we aren't cuffing you too,” Coulson replied.

Natasha took a deep breath. This was SHIELD, alternate universe or no alternate universe. This was Coulson ordering her to stand down. She allowed herself to be taken into custody.

***

Steve waited until the chaos died down a bit and pulled Agent Hill aside.

“Miss? Could I talk to you for a minute?”

“Of course, Captain. Walk with me. What’s on your mind?” She led the way into the Helicarrier, taking inventory of the damage as she went.

“Something really weird has been happening the past few days.” He proceeded to tell her about his encounter with Loki and the time he’d spent locked in a cell. “And now I’m here but those people are here too…”

“Go on down to the med-bay,” she advised. “Get checked out, then get some rest. We’ve all had a weird couple of days.” As soon as Steve left, she went to Fury, calling Coulson to join them.

***

Clint was shunted out into a hallway while a team of doctors and nurses buzzed around Tony. Through the window, he couldn’t even see the man he’d quickly come to think of as his friend. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, struggling for a better view. Hulk approached. The giant of a man leaned against the wall with a low growl. 

“I ought to tear this place apart.”

Clint looked at him nervously. “Please don’t. I’m standing right here.”

Hulk glanced through the window. “That Stark in there?”

“Yeah.”

“He hurt?” Hulk asked, a bit guiltily. 

“That’s what I’m waiting to find out.” Clint sighed. “At least we saved the world. Where’s Natasha?”

“They cuffed her and took her away.”

“And you let them?” Clint didn’t want to yell at someone who could snap him like a matchstick without even thinking about, but his volume increased of its own accord.

Hulk straightened up to his full height. “Look, if you want to take on all of SHIELD for her, feel free. She’s cute but she ain’t that cute.”

Clint’s eyes narrowed. “Rogers said we’re supposed to be some kind of team. That means we look out for each other. You got something better to do?”

“I got a fucking job to get back to. I’m done with this crazy.”

“No, you aren’t.” Clint squared off his shoulders, trying to look bigger than he was. “You’re going back up there and you’re going to find out where they’re taking her and what they’re doing with her. I frankly don’t give two shits if you want in on this or not.”

“I ought to smash your head in,” Hulk growled.

“Do you love your job?” Clint asked. “Does it make you feel like you’re doing the right thing for the first time in your worthless life? This crazy is the only thing I’ve ever been part of that meant anything. Come on, man.”

“You’re appealing to my morality?” the big guy scoffed.

“Try to find Rogers while you’re at it.”

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear," Hulk leaned in, "you don’t give me orders.”

“Fuck off. I got nothing to lose.” Clint glared at him, holding eye contact until the larger man looked away.

“Let me know how Stark comes out. I’m gonna go throw my weight around.”

***

“It explains his strange behavior,” Hill concluded.

“He’s been acting odd, but not so odd that he’d have to make up a story this crazy to cover it up,” Coulson said.

“He brought in Romanoff, maybe he’s secretly working for Hydra,” Maria suggested.

“Steve Rogers working for Hydra is the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard,” Fury declared.

“Dumber than getting sucked into a parallel universe and then spit back out three days later?” Hill asked.

“Yes,” Coulson and Fury answered in unison.

“So we keep an eye on him,” Phil offered. “See if he normalizes now that things seem to be resolved with Loki.”

“Have him help with your interrogation,” Fury directed. “Let’s see what he does.”

***

Natasha looked up when the door opened. “Phil, what’s going on here? What’s this about?”

Coulson sat down across from her and folded his hands on the table. “I’ll start with a simple question. So, how long have you been working for Hydra?”

“I don’t work for Hydra.” She might have been amused by having to explain this to Coulson of all people, but something about him made her feel anxious.

He pursed his lips and slowly exhaled, his nostrils flaring. “Miss Romanoff, we can do this the easy way: where I ask you questions and you answer them, or we can do it the hard way: where I drag you off to a secret facility in the middle of nowhere where no one can hear you scream.”

“I’m not who you think I am.” Her anxiety was mounting.

Phil stood, reaching into his jacket. Natasha flung herself against the restraints as he jabbed a pressurized hypodermic sedative delivery system into her shoulder. “Not the choice I would have recommended.”

***

“They’re taking her off-site,” Hulk said in a hushed tone.

“Where?” Clint asked.

“Couldn’t find out. I tried.”

“Alright,” Tony said. “Let me try.” He tapped the face of his watch and smiled. “Got it. I’ve got a backdoor into their computer systems. Let’s get out of here, I can hack them remotely.”

“What about Rogers?” Clint looked at Hulk expectantly.

"You know she's got it bad for him, right?"

"So?" 

"So," Hulk explained patiently, "this ain't some fairy tale where you rescue your princess and she falls for you. It s ounds like he went with her. They're together.”

“She's still in custody, she's being moved. Hopefully he’ll be able to keep her safe until we can get them both out of here. I don’t trust these people.” Clint pressed his lips together grimly.


	11. The Bright Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint, Tony and Hulk work to find and free Natasha, she just struggles to stay alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the darkest chapter in the entire work. Although the next one won't be much better.

Natasha was lying at an incline on a hard surface, her arms and legs positioned in an X. They were bound at the wrists and ankles. She tried to open her eyes but there was something secured over them, rendering her blind. She took a deep breath to calm herself. Wherever she was, it was quiet but not silent. A deep, unsettling drone filled her ears. It was loud but so low it was barely within the range of perception. It made her head hurt and her skin crawl. The room was cold, and she was nude.

“There’s been a misunderstanding,” she called out. Her voice didn’t echo. No one responded.

The persistent noise made sleep impossible. Natasha waited in the icy darkness. A hush fell over the room. She heard a door open a short distance from her left foot. A draft of warmer air came from the same direction. Two sets of footsteps entered.

“Please listen to me,” Natasha began. “I know this sounds crazy, but I don’t work for Hydra. You have the wrong Natasha Romanoff.”

She had gotten used to the chill of the room until a pair of hands, large, strong, roughly calloused, and so, so warm closed around her foot. The hands began to squeeze.

“They say you’re immortal,” Coulson said. “They say you don’t even feel pain. I guess we’ll find out.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” she insisted. She clenched her jaw as the pressure increased. She heard a quiet, masculine grunt of exertion as her metatarsal bones fractured. She swallowed her pain silently.

“You’ve made an unfortunate choice, Miss Romanoff,” Steve’s familiar voice informed her.

“Loki opened a portal,” Natasha said when she was confident she could speak without her voice cracking. The hands gripped her other foot.

***

“I thought you said you could hack them remotely.” Clint kicked a chair. 

“I can. I have. Look.” Tony spun his screen to show Clint. “Does that make any sense to you?”

The screen was full of gibberish, characters that weren’t even letters or numbers. “No.”

“It’s all encrypted. It’ll just take a little time to crack.” Tony turned the screen back so he could keep working.

“I should’ve stayed on the helicarrier with Hulk. Maybe I could be useful there,” Clint bemoaned.

“You can be useful here,” Tony stated.

Clint looked at him hopefully.

“My coffee cup is empty.”

***

She heard two sets of footsteps enter, and she was flat on her back. The thing that she was bound to had some range of motion, they were able to change the incline as well as rotate her body around a fixed point without unfastening her bonds. She felt the surface lower as well.

When she felt the hand on her jaw, she knew it was Steve. His hands were larger, stronger and his skin rougher. He forced her mouth open and pushed something rubbery inside. She gagged as it hit the back of her throat.

“See if you can get it a little further in,” Phil advised. “We want the water to go straight to her stomach, not into her lungs.”

She felt the tube move deeper into her mouth and she squirmed. Her throat tried to force it back out unsuccessfully.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything to tell us before we get started?”

Natasha didn’t move or try to speak. She heard the faint squeal of metal on metal and the rush of water. She recoiled as the cold water hit her skin.

A muffled chuckle escaped from Steve.

“Here, hold this,” Phil said. “Aim into the funnel.”

Water rushed down Natasha’s throat. She thrashed against her cuffs.

“Have you done this before?”

“No,” Steve answered.

“The idea is to complete fill her stomach with water, actually force in more than the stomach can hold. It’s very uncomfortable. She’ll probably throw most of it up when we pull the tube out.”

“Hey, can you hold the hose for a minute?” Steve asked.

“Sure, why?”

“Sound of running water makes me have to piss.”

From right above her head, Natasha heard a zipper go down.

***

“I have a record of a prisoner transfer but no destination,” Tony declared, pushing back from his computer in frustration.

“This is a waste of time,” Clint replied, tossing a wadded up ball of paper into the trashcan. 

“Nice shot.”

Clint rolled his eyes.

“Barton. Barton, even if we find her, this place is going to be secure. Fortified. Lots of armed guards. Fucking, like, laser grids.” Tony ran his hands through his hair, rubbing his scalp with his fingertips.

“You think we should give up.”

Tony moved the trashcan a foot further away from Clint. “I think we need to take a hard look at our assets versus what we’re up against.”

Clint balled up another piece of paper. “Assets: You.” He banked the paper off Tony’s chest, landing it in the wastebasket. “You’re fucking Iron Man.”

Tony tucked the bin behind his chair.

“And,” Clint wadded up another, “we have a Hulk.” He tossed it over Stark. Tony turned to look.

“That’s pretty good.”

“And.” Clint unbent a paper clip, straightening it into a tiny javelin. He fired it across the office with his fingertips, burying it in the wall in the center of the A in _Stark Industries_. “I never miss.”

*** 

Natasha had lost all sense of time.  She heard footsteps, just one this time. Leather soled dress shoes. Coulson. She was wondering if it would be the taser again when the device moved. When it stopped Natasha thought her head might be lower than the rest of her body, the sensation was disorienting.

“I’ll admit I didn’t take much time to get to know you last time, except biblically, but you’re surprising. I didn’t anticipate this degree of loyalty.” Coulson’s voice was quiet, soft and calm.

“I’m not loyal to Hydra. I don’t have anything to tell you,” she insisted.

He walked slowly towards her feet. His fingertips trailed over her skin from her wrist down her arm, over her breast, down her ribs, across her hip, and down the front of her leg. Though his hand was warm, his touch brought goosebumps. He pivoted and stepped between her legs, continuing forward until his thighs pressed against hers.

“Who do you work for?” he asked calmly.

Natasha heard a short, quiet rasping noise.

“No one.” She furrowed her brow at the smell of sulfur. Something hot hit her abdomen and she jerked against the restraints. The soft sound came again and this time Natasha recognized it. A match. He was lighting a match.

“I work alone.” The second match fell higher, landing in between her breasts.

***

Clint pounced on his phone when it rang. “You have something?”

There was a long pause. Finally, the Hulk spoke. “They’ve agreed to take me to the facility where she’s being held.”

“She’s still alive,” Clint breathed in relief. 

“You’ve got a knack for finding the bright side to everything,” Hulk observed.

“There’s no dark side, here. We just confirmed she’s alive and we’re about to know where she is. This is all bright side, baby.”

“You ever call me baby again, I’ll bite off your fingers.”

Clint swallowed hard. “Sorry. Sorry. It won’t happen again. Why are you so glum?”

“I’m always glum.”

“No, you’re not,” Clint argued. 

“They’re torturing her. They asked me to help. And I’m starting to not feel so good about the way I acted when she came to recruit me,” he admitted.

“And you acted like I was crazy for appealing to your morality. I knew there was a good guy buried somewhere deep inside you. When are you leaving? We’ll need a way for you to make contact once you’re in.”

***

The torment never stopped. They seemed to be going down a list of torture techniques. Coulson preferred weapons and tools and more remote forms of torture. He also preferred to keep her blindfolded. Steve liked to use his hands and he liked to see her eyes.

When Natasha heard Steve’s footsteps approach her head, she expected the blindfold to come off. Instead a cord wrapped around her neck and pulled tight. When the cuff on one wrist opened, Natasha immediately brought her hand up, trying to pull it away from her windpipe.

He slapped a pair of handcuffs on her other wrist before releasing it from the X. “Cuff your hands behind your back or choke and die, Hydra bitch.” His breath was hot against her cheek as he uttered the words into her ear.


	12. Rescue Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony arrive in the alternate side universe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last of the really dark chapters, I promise

Steve stepped through the portal. He was kneeling in a filthy room with a concrete floor. His right arm was submerged to the biceps in cold water. He realized all at once that there was someone next to him on the right side, almost behind him, as he twisted his body to hold their head under the water. He pulled his hand up, yanking Natasha out of the water.  
  
She fell, limp, into his arms. Steve pushed wet hair out of her face, pulling off a soaked blindfold in the process, and pressed his fingers to the side of her throat. No pulse. He laid her gently on the concrete floor, her arms pinned awkwardly behind her, and began CPR.  
  
“Help!” Steve screamed. He did ten chest compressions, forced air into her lungs and did eight more. Two men in scrubs joined him.  
  
“We got this.”  
  
Steve moved back a little to give them space to work. Two more men came in with a stretcher.  
  
“I’ve got a rhythm. Let’s move her.”  
  
Steve sat in the empty room alone until Coulson came and sat on the floor next to him. Coulson watched him with concern, waiting for Steve to speak.  
  
“What was I doing?” Steve’s voice came out small.  
  
“You got a little carried away. Could’ve happened to anyone.” Phil was warm and reassuring.  
  
Steve felt sick to his stomach.  
  
“Anyway,” Coulson continued. “We got her revived and secured in a cell upstairs. No harm done. No help either. Apparently the first words out of her mouth when she came to were ‘I’m not Hydra’. I think this was a misstep.”  
  
Steve felt a small wave of relief crest over him. “Really?”  
  
“It’s not getting us anywhere. She cried when you raped her. It was just a couple tears but I think it was genuine. It’s the most vulnerability she’s displayed. We need to exploit that.”  
  
All the air left the room; Steve couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think of what he would say if he could. He felt cold through and through, and he was certain that if he opened his mouth, he’d throw up. He could taste the bile at the back of his throat.  
  
Coulson seemed to take Steve’s silence for assent. “If we work that angle together, we can get some information. I think that’s the way to break her.”  
  
“Together?” Steve echoed, forcing the word out. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He sucked in two short breaths in rapid succession. His chest ached; his body couldn’t decide between hyperventilating and not ventilating at all.  
  
“We can get a few other people involved,” Phil suggested, as calmly as if he was discussing dinner plans. “The Hulk has been asking about her.”  
  
“No,” Steve said firmly. He forced himself to think quickly. And also to breathe. “No one else.” He needed to get Coulson to show him where she was being kept so he could get her out. “Just us.”  
  
“It won’t be quick and you’ve been working pretty hard lately,” Coulson said. He sounded so genuinely concerned about Steve’s wellbeing. Everything about his tone and demeanor was completely at odds with what he was suggesting. “Hulk’s already on site. Let him help shoulder the burden.”  
  
Steve’s jaw clenched. He held out a slim hope that he could reason with Banner’s alter ego. He had to derail his mind from wondering what else they had already done to Natasha.  
  
Phil smiled approvingly. “Are you ready to start now?”  
  
“I just need a minute,” Steve answered. He stood and walked out into the hallway. He looked left. He looked right. There was a sign for a restroom a few doors down. Steve went into the men’s room and made sure he was alone.  
  
His knees hit the tiles and he gripped the edges of the toilet bowl with both hands. His stomach lurched and heaved. He gagged but nothing came up. Steve knelt, trembling and panting, then leaned forward and tried again. When he was sure that the contents of his stomach weren’t going anywhere, he went to the sink and splashed some water on his face. Patting himself dry with a paper towel he looked into the mirror. “Rescue now. Self-loathing and guilt later.”  
  
With a heavy sigh, Steve tossed the paper towel in the trash, set his jaw and went back into the hallway. His shield was sitting on the floor outside the room he’d been in earlier. Coulson was waiting next to it.  
  
“I meant what I said about you working hard. You’ve been such a help to me these past few days,” Coulson said warmly. “I really can’t thank you enough. Even if we don’t get anything, I want you to know that your efforts are appreciated. You have a real knack for this kind of work.”  
  
Steve nodded stiffly. As they walked, he oriented himself to his surroundings. Military bases and SHIELD bases had certain things in common. Certain quirks to their layout. After being in several of both over the years, Steve had a good sense of where things would be. Exits. Security. Medical. Armory. He planned his escape as he followed Phil through the corridors. Coulson rambled as they walked, saying things Steve could never unhear.  
  
“I don’t know if she told you, when I went to kill her all those years ago, she offered to sleep with me. You know, in exchange for her life. I was pretty rough with her, but she didn’t complain. Well, she complained when I shot her, but she lived so I guess I kept my end of the bargain. Technically.”

A single guard stood in the hallway. Phil smiled at him. “Let Hulk know we’re ready for him."

As the guard hurried away, Phil opened a door. He flipped on the light as they stepped inside. Steve hadn’t taken the time to really look at Natasha earlier. She was bound to a massive letter X lying on the floor; her wrists and ankles raw where the bindings had bit into her flesh. Much of her skin was dark, mottled with bruises, dirt and dried blood. She looked up at them with bloodshot eyes.  
  
Steve carefully closed the door behind them as Coulson strode in.  
  
“I think you know why we’re here,” he began. “We don’t have to do this. Just tell me everything. Who’s leading Hydra these days? How many bases do they have? Or, you know what? Don’t. Keep your secrets. I’ve been looking forw-“  
  
He didn't finish as Steve grabbed him, slipping his arm around Phil’s neck. Steve squeezed. He held for several seconds after Phil went limp. The agent landed heavily when Steve finally released him.  
  
Steve knelt and helped himself to Phil’s pistol and ID badge, tucking the former into his waistband and the latter into his back pocket. He glanced at Natasha. She was wearing a hospital gown and a fearful expression. He slipped Phil’s jacket off his lax form. He approached Natasha, examining the cuffs that bound her.  
  
“Hold still.”  
  
She spit at him. “I won’t make this easy for you,” she whispered hoarsely through gritted teeth.  
  
“Nat, it’s me. I’m going to get you out of here.”  
  
“You'll have to kill me this time.” A mix of anger and fear coated her voice. Her arms and legs tensed against the restraints.  
  
Over the pounding of his heart, Steve didn’t hear the heavy footsteps approach. A huge hand grabbed his shoulder, lifting him off the ground. The air was forced out of his chest as his back hit the wall. Hulk pressed his palm to Steve’s chest and uttered a low growl. It was the exact predatory pitch that cut to the primal parts of his brain and triggered an instant fear response.

Adrenaline pumping, Steve jabbed his thumb into the crook of Hulk’s elbow. There was a pressure point – there was a pressure point there that Natasha had taught him about – and Hulk’s arm buckled in response. Steve ducked under his swing and skidded to his knees next to Coulson. When he’d been checking Phil’s pockets, there had been a handful of change and a set of keys in one.

He pulled out the keys and looked up just in time to get kicked in the face. He was stunned for a second, eyes watering from the pain of his nose breaking. Hulk picked him up again.

“I ought to tear you apart,” Hulk snarled.

Steve headbutted him and immediately regretted it, but the creature dropped him. He raced to Natasha. “I tried to make cupcakes for your birthday and I don’t know what I did wrong but they came out both dry and greasy. The frosting was pink instead of red. They were a disaster. You ate one anyway and told me it was the nicest cupcake you’d ever had,” he panted the story out as he uncuffed her, careful to touch only the metal cuffs and not Natasha’s bloodied flesh as he unlocked the first two.  
  
Hulk dragged him away, not giving Steve a chance to get his feet under him as he knelt over the super soldier. He pulled one massive fist back.  
  
Steve slid the keys across the concrete towards Natasha. “Run!”  
  
A frown creased Hulk’s brow.  
  
“That was supposed to be red?” Natasha asked haltingly.  
  
Steve looked over at her. “Yeah, it was supposed to be the little hourglass on your belt,” he explained, and he smiled despite himself.  
  
Hulk’s grip on Steve’s shirt loosened. “You’re letting her go?”  
  
“Damn right I am.”  
  
“I thought they were pink butterflies.” Natasha unlocked the cuffs at her ankles. She dragged herself across the floor and picked up Phil’s gun from where it had fallen during the scuffle. She struggled with the weight of the .45, bracing it with both hands as she took aim at Hulk.  
  
“Get off him.”  
  
“Barton and Stark are on their way. We’re mounting a rescue operation,” Hulk explained. Slowly, he eased his weight off Steve. “They said,” he looked down at Steve venomously, “he hurt you.”  
  
Steve reached up, gripped the bridge of his nose tightly and tugged downward. He felt something slip back into its rightful place.  
  
“He’s not the same guy.” Natasha lowered the weapon, pulling her arms and legs into her body.  
  
“So, now that we’ve established we’re on the same side, what’s the plan?” Steve asked.  
  
“I draw fire while you get her out.”

Steve looked to Natasha. “Can you walk?”

Natasha shook her head.  
  
Steve looked at her injured legs and feet. “Yeah, I guess not. I’m sorry.” He wrapped Phil’s jacket around her.

Hulk had pulled out his phone. “Alright, we got her. Rogers too. I draw fire, he’ll bring her to you. Got it.” He looked at Steve. “East gate.”

“You okay with me carrying you?” Steve asked Natasha as he leaned in to pick her up. Her arm slipped around behind him and he felt the pistol bump against his back.  
  
“I got your six.”  
  
He nodded, forcing a smile and picked her up. He didn’t think she’d really be much use in a fight in her current condition, but if the gun made her feel safer, he wasn’t going to take that from her.

A fire alarm went off as Hulk stepped out into the hallway. “That’s our cue,” he announced.

Steve took what he had previously estimated to be the likely path of least resistance. There was obviously a firefight going on in the northwest section of the base. Steve winced, realizing that he’d probably dropped Tony right into the middle of it. Steve headed east.

Clint was waiting in a black SUV. He jumped out as Steve approached. “You drive.”

"What are you doing?” Steve asked.

“Stark’s gone off comms, I gotta make sure Hulk gets out.”

“Hold on!” Steve shouted. He quickly called Tony.

“Kinda busy. What the hell did you get me into?”

“Sorry. Do you have a visual on Hulk? He’s, uh, he’s grey here.”

“I’m being shot at!”

Steve looked at Clint. “Okay, help them. Just be careful.”

“We’re meeting at Stark’s office upstate,” Clint informed him. “I hope to see you there.”  
  
“Stay down,” Steve said, putting Natasha in the back of an SUV. In the driver’s seat, he took a few minutes with his GPS to figure out where they were and started heading north. Natasha dozed off, exhaustion trumping pain. She clutched the pistol to her chest. Steve kept glancing into the back to check on her. The more distance he put between them and the base, the harder it became to ignore the guilt gnawing at him. Natasha whimpered in her sleep, and the sound cut him to the core. The road blurred. Steve blinked to clear his vision and tears ran down his cheeks.  
  
He pulled over as his body began to shake. Steve struggled to regain control; breathing hard,he choked back a sob. He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone rang. He fumbled for it, dropping it in his lap before getting it to his ear. It was Tony.  
  
“We’re out. You?”  
  
“Yeah,” Steve said, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t disturb her. “All three of you?”  
  
“No injuries. You know where you’re going?”

“I’ve been there,” Steve assured him. “Do you?”

“Barton’s leading. See you soon.”

Steve tucked the phone back into his pocket.  
  
“Where are you taking me?” a small, scared voice asked from the backseat.  
  
Apparently he hadn’t been quiet enough. “The Smithsonian,” he joked. A tiny smile curled at the corners of Steve’s mouth. “I hear it’s the best place for fossils.”  
  
Natasha sat up and leaned forward, putting her hand on his shoulder. “It’s you.”  
  
“Yeah.” He reached across his body and gently laid his fingers over hers. Hers twitched back slightly at the contact and he put his hand back on the steering wheel. “Try to rest a little, we’re going to meet up with Tony and Clint.”  
  
There was something odd about the way her fingers had felt when he touched them. He was a few miles further down the road when he realized she was missing her fingernails. The nail beds were soft, raw flesh.


	13. The Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Natasha make it back to the MCU and we catch up on the events there.

Tony greeted them with a strained smile. “Minor setback,” he said.

“What’s that?” Steve groaned.

“The device didn’t come through with us. Or if it did, I don’t know where it ended up.”

“We don’t have a way back?” Steve’s eyes widened. “That’s more than a minor setback, Tony.”

“He’s the Tony from your Universe, isn’t he?” Clint asked.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. 

“Is our Tony there?” Clint frowned.

“That’s the idea.”

“Is he safe?”

Steve smiled. “He’s fine. More than. As long as he doesn’t attack them, and I don’t think he would, he’ll be fine. We’re going to work on getting him back, right?” He looked to Tony.

“Relax, I haven’t just been sitting on my hands here. I can another device built in a day, no big deal.”

“A day. That’s great. I need a day anyway. Little change in plans,” Steve said.

“What’s that?” Hulk asked.

Steve looked at them and swallowed anxiously. “The Steve Rogers from this world is dangerous. I wish we could contact our world and tell them just how dangerous. But he can’t be anywhere near Natasha when he comes through,” Steve lowered his voice. “He tortured her.”

Clint’s expression darkened. “No. You open that portal now, you send that son of a bitch right fucking here.”

Tony looked over at Natasha, sitting quietly in a wheelchair he’d found in the office. “Is there anywhere that the other Natasha will be safe?”

Steve gestured to their surroundings. “She’ll be safe enough here. Get the device up and running.”

“Barton’s right. Send me the man who hurt her,” Hulk snarled. He cracked his knuckles ominously. 

“Yeah, she’ll be safe here,” Steve reiterated. “Okay, but I want to make sure he’s contained when he comes through the portal, no easy access to weapons, no escape route.”

Tony nodded. “I’m going to need your shield. The shape and material make the perfect focal point for the energy to open the portal.”

Steve handed it over without a word. He followed Clint and Hulk to a bunker outside and began making arrangements. Tony set to work. When he looked up, three hours had passed. He glanced at Natasha.

“You hungry?”

“How long have I been here?” she asked.

“This world? A week today.”

“I haven’t eaten in a week.”

“So that’s a yes?” Tony rifled through the cabinets and mini fridge. “Okay, I have three kinds of whiskey, vodka, gin, vermouth, green olives, black olives, two bananas and half a gallon of slightly expired orange juice.”

“Give me a banana.”

“I could send one of the others out for pizza,” he offered. 

“I’ll stick to the banana.”  
***  
“If we handcuff you, will he be handcuffed when you switch places?” Clint asked.

“I don’t think so. It seems like everything I’m touching goes through with me. I mean, I’m not wearing his pants right now.”

“That’d be awkward,” Hulk acknowledged. 

“I want to open the portal twice,” Steve explained. “Tony will open it in the lab and he and Natasha go through. Then he’ll open it from the other side and force the other Steve through to here.”

Clint looked up from sharpening a knife. “How will we know when you switch?”

“Give me that.”

With a frown, Clint handed over the weapon. Steve stared at it for a second, then made a shallow cut on his cheekbone. 

“That cut won’t be there,” he answered.

“Hardcore,” Hulk commented. 

***  
“Whatcha doing?” Tony asked.

“Writing myself a note.” Natasha pulled the paper towards her chest to hide her writing.

“You mean your other self? The Natasha from this world?” Tony thought for a moment. “That’s such a good idea. Okay, the device is ready but give me, like, five minutes.”

“Tell him to buy groceries,” Natasha suggested helpfully.

“Dear Other Tony, I’m going to tell you to destroy the device. But if you’re anything like me, and let’s face it you obviously are, I know you won’t. This travelling between dimensions stuff has the potential to be very dangerous and messy. So maybe sober up before you try it. Love, Tony.” Tony left the note on the floor right next to the shield.

“Ready?” He looked at Natasha expectantly.

Natasha looked down at what she’d written, folded it twice and tucked it into the pocket of Phil’s jacket. “I’m ready.”

Tony turned on the device.

***

Tony blinked in confusion. “No, no, no! Where am I? I need to get back! I was in the middle of a mission!”

As soon as the light from the portal faded, Sam and Clint leveled their weapons at Steve. Wanda’s eyes glowed crimson as she readied herself for an attack.

“Step into the cell,” Thor ordered, point the head of Mjolnir at the super soldier.

Steve looked at each of them, weighing his options. He backed into the cell. Vision secured the door.

“Relax,” Thor said, turning his focus to the panicked billionaire. “I’m sure the Tony from our world will take care of it.”

“The Tony from -- it’s all true,” Tony marveled as their attention turned to him. “This is an alternate universe.”

“Yes, but we just call it the universe,” Clint remarked.

“Are you dangerous?” Wanda asked.

“Your eyes…” Tony gaped at her. He glanced at the other cells standing open. “Are you going to put me in one of those?”

“Are you going to make that necessary?” Vision asked, stepping forward to stand beside Wanda.

“Can I look around? Can I ask a thousand questions? Who are you? You sound weirdly familiar.” Tony shook off his confusion. “Is Pepper here?”

“We haven’t exactly filled her in on what’s happening,” Wanda admitted.

“He went through a portal to another dimension without telling her?” Anger flashed in Tony’s voice. “Of all the reckless, thoughtless, asshole things to do. He really doesn’t appreciate her. Fucking hell. I never learn, I never change, do I?”

“He tries,” Vision said in Tony’s defense.

“You don’t understand. I lost her. Please. I need to see her one last time.”

“She’s not here,” Clint said gently. “She’s CEO of Stark Industries, she’s at a trade show in Montreal.”

Tony deflated.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you. She’s supposed to be back in a couple days but I honestly hope you’ll be gone by then. Sorry.” Clint apologized twice. He felt for the guy but he wanted Natasha back. One outweighed the other by a significant margin.

***

“Want to play hooky?”

Pepper looked up and laughed. “Tony, I can’t. I’m in the middle of a business trip, this is important.”

“So’s this.” He stepped forward and kissed her impulsively.

“What’s this all about? Is something wrong?” Her amusement quickly turned to concern.

“No. Nothing wrong. For the first time in a long time, everything is right.” He stared at her with damp eyes. “You’re so beautiful. I don’t tell you enough --couldn’t possibly tell you enough -- how much I love you.”

“I love you too.” Her tone was more patient than romantic.

“I adore you. You’re smart, no, brilliant. You’re beautiful. You’re good and kind you are everything that’s right with world. You’re so much better than I deserve.”

“Tony?”

“I can’t begin to describe the ways my life would fall apart without you. I know I take you for granted and I wish I could tell you that I’ll change.”

Pepper chuckled. “But we both know you won’t. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I just want you to know that -- even though I’m not good at expressing it -- all this,” he said, gesturing first to the suit and then broadly to their surroundings, “is a distraction. You are my entire universe.”

“Tony, are you sure you’re alright?”

He nodded and blinked back tears. “I just couldn’t go another day without telling you how I feel. I’ll let you get back to work.”

She lightly touched his armored chest. “Hey, even when I’m mad at you, I never doubt your love for me. And you’re wrong. I’m exactly the woman you deserve.” She gave him a deep, lingering kiss. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

Tony nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Goodbye, Pepper.”

He landed outside the compound and stopped to admire it. This Tony really had it all. 

***

Clint found Natasha holed up in a run-down motel in a crap part of town. Tracking her down hadn’t been easy. He knocked and she let him in without a word.

“When she comes through the portal, you’ll get sent back, no matter where you are,” he pointed out.

“I know. This was a stupid idea.” She sat on the bed. “I just couldn’t stay when everybody knows I’m an imposter.”

Clint sat next to her. “Nobody’s mad at you for coming through the portal.”

“I think Rogers was.”

“You didn’t know that you’d trade places with our Nat. You didn’t deliberately put her in danger. You made a very reasonable choice to try to get yourself out of a bad situation. Steve’s worried about her, he’s not mad at you.”

“You know that, do you?” Natasha asked. “Did he tell you that?”

“He’s there now, trying to make sure you’re safe when you get back,” Clint replied.

“There’s nowhere safe for me in that world.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Clint promised.

“Everyone here cares so much about her. About me when I’m her. Like you.” She watched his face, trying to read his expression.

“Well, she’s my best friend.”

“Just friends?” Natasha shifted her body so that he had a clear view down the front of her shirt to her bare breasts.

Clint kept his eyes on her face. “She would hate that. The idea that sex is more than friendship, like our relationship doesn’t count because we don’t fuck. List of guys Nat’s fucked? Pretty long.” He shrugged. “No judgment. List of people that she actually trusts and cares about the way we care about each other? Really fucking short.”

Undeterred, Natasha sidled closer and put her hand on his leg. “But I’m not really her. This won’t ruin your friendship.”

“Okay, I’m trying to let you down easy here; I’m also really married.”

“I don’t mind.” She pressed on his thigh, gripping firmly.

“I do.” Clint leaned back uncomfortably, trying to reclaim some space. “And my wife does.”

“Your wife isn’t here.” Natasha threw one leg over his lap, straddling him.

Clint recoiled, hitting his head on the wall behind him. She grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him back towards her as she pressed her mouth to his. Her probing tongue hit his clenched teeth as he resisted.

He tried to push her away. Either this Natasha was stronger than his Natasha or she’d really been holding back during their sparring. He struggled harder and shoved with all his might. She landed a few feet away, wearing a hospital gown and a men’s suit coat. Her hair was matted and she looked like she'd been through hell.

“Nat!” Clint’s knees hit the floor as he scrambled to her side. “Oh, thank God, it’s you. It’s really you.”

***  
Tony raced inside. “Where’s the shield? Where’s the device?”

“Tony, relax,” Wanda said. “It’s right here. Wait, you’re back, aren’t you?”

“We need to swap out Steves.”

Thor, Tony, Vision and Wanda gathered outside the cell.

“Alright, let’s do it.” Tony activated the device.

Vision opened the cell door.

“Get in there,” Tony said.

Steve stared at the portal. “No.”

“What?” Tony glared at him. “It’s only open for a few-”

Red energy swarmed from Wanda’s fingertips, wrapping around Steve and dragging him into the blue glow of the portal. She released him as he vanished, and the light flared and went out. Steve braced himself against the door frame, awkward and off-balance.

“Hey guys.”

***


	14. Pink Butterflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovery begins

Steve stood in the doorway of the infirmary until Clint noticed him.

“You can come in.”

Steve entered cautiously. “How is she?”

Clint shrugged. “Looks worse than it is. Scrapes and bruises, a few broken bones. Dehydration.” He shrugged again, trying to pretend it was less serious than it was.

“But the physical injuries are only part of it, right?”

Clint glanced at Natasha. “She’s sedated right now. She needs to rest in order to recover, but it’s hard. When you go through something like that, at first you feel like your freedom is a hallucination. If you fall asleep, you’ll wake up back where you were. So, you’re afraid to sleep.”

“Are you ever afraid to sleep?” Steve asked.

“Every night that I’m not at home with Laura,” he admitted. “Anyway, her doctor thinks they can do surgery tomorrow. She has multiple fractures in her feet. They’ll have to make incisions so they can regenerate the bone tissue. She’s going to be pissed if she can’t get en pointe after this.”

“On point?” Steve echoed, confused.

“En pointe,” Clint repeated with a slightly obnoxious nasal-sounding accent. “It’s French; it’s a ballet term.” He frowned. “The doctor doesn't think we need to use the cradle on her ribs. Broken ribs suck, but they heal well on their own.”

Steve winced at the mention of broken ribs, remembering a crack when he’d been doing CPR.

Clint didn’t notice. “She wouldn’t talk to psych. I don’t know if she’ll talk to me. I haven’t tried. There’s a part of me that wants to know exactly everything they did to her and then there’s a part of me that doesn’t. And I’d really just like to get my hands on the people who did it, but that’s not an option.”

“What would you do if you could?” Steve asked.

“Well, seeing as how the worst of it was probably the other Steve, I’d probably get my ass kicked.” What started as a bitter chuckle quickly turned to Clint burying his face in his hands, shoulders shaking as he fought back tears.

“How do you know that?” Steve’s brow furrowed.

Clint looked up at him. “He threatened Wanda with, well, a few choice words regarding what he’d done to Nat.” He sniffled. “We had to convince Vision that imploding him would negatively impact our ability to get you back.”

“Would it?”

“Beats me. Vision couldn’t prove it either way. Thor said it would. Loki said it wouldn’t, which was the deciding factor.”

Steve’s gaze went to Natasha. “I feel like I shouldn’t be here when she wakes up.”

Clint nodded in agreement. “Look, I know on an intellectual level that none of this was your fault, but I might break my hand on your jaw if you don’t find an elsewhere to be for a little while.”

Steve left quietly. Elsewhere was the gym, hitting the heavy bag until the seam split and sand poured out onto the floor. The humility of sweeping up the floor felt better than the violence of pummeling the bag. Once the sand was taken care of, he swept the rest of the gym as well.

***

Clint picked up the suit jacket, folded on the windowsill. “What should I do with this?”

“Get rid of,” Natasha replied. “Burning would be good.”

Clint furrowed his brow, examining it more closely. “You know who this reminds me of?”

“Don’t say it.”

He looked at her in concern. “Nat, what’s wrong?”

“It’s not Phil’s.”

Clint looked from Natasha to the jacket and back to Natasha. Slowly, he lowered it. “It is, though. Isn’t it? Steve said he was still alive in that world.”

“He’s alive, but he’s not Phil. He’s not the man we knew.” Her voice cracked slightly, despite her efforts to keep it even.

Clint frowned. “I’m going to get rid of this.”

“Burning is good,” Natasha reiterated.

***

Tony had built a handful of janitorial robots, but Steve persisted in his cleaning efforts despite the lack of notable dirt or clutter. He was on his hands and knees wiping out the kitchen cabinets when a noise startled him. Steve jumped and hit the back of his head on the frame of a cabinet, cracking the wood.

“Sorry,” Wanda said with a wince.

“Hey.” Steve forced a weak smile. “I’m surprised it took you this long to come see me. I figured you’d want to check my mind as soon as I got back.”

“It’s not so difficult to tell you from your doppleganger,” she answered. “You didn’t immediately attack anyone, physically or verbally. Do you want me to check anyway? You didn’t seem to like it.”

“No, I’m good,” Steve quickly assured her. “I just figured you would. So why are you here, if not for that?”

“Natasha wants to know why she hasn’t seen you.”

“I wasn’t sure she wanted to.”

Wanda smiled gently. “None of us have seen much of you since you got back. You’ve kept yourself busy, cleaning things that don’t need to be cleaned. But now you know that she wants to see you. Go see her. Stop avoiding.”

***

Out of habit, Clint checked the pockets of the jacket. He found a roll of the wintergreen mints Phil had liked, a spent .45 caliber shell, and a folded piece of paper. He tossed the shell, tucked the mints into his own pocket and laid the jacket on top of the trash can while he unfolded the paper.

The handwriting was faint, as though the writer didn’t have the strength to press hard into the paper. The letters trembled and wobbled across the page. It was in Russian, but Clint could read most of it. The words he didn't know, he could figure out from context. It was a detailed, firsthand account of being tortured.

Clint quickly folded the page back up and stuck it back in the pocket of the jacket. He took several deep breaths, clutching the jacket until his knuckles were white. He shoved it forcefully into the trashcan and headed down to the range.

***

“Wanda said you wanted to see me?” Steve stood in the doorway.

“You’ve been avoiding me. Seems a bit unfair since I’m not quite up to chasing you down.” Natasha looked almost well. There weren’t any visible bruises. Her nails, though short, at least covered the beds. She was still a bit too pale, her face a bit too gaunt. She forced a smile, but the haunted look didn’t leave her eyes. “The regeneration cradle is impressive, but the doctor still wants me to rest.”

“Well, there is something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” Steve began.

Natasha nodded solemnly.

“Pink butterflies? Really? Why would I put pink butterflies on your birthday cupcakes?” he asked, feigning offense.

Natasha was taken aback for a moment, then she laughed. “Well, butterflies are symbolic of change, transformation and hope. And pink is my favorite color, so I thought-”

“Wait, your favorite color is pink?”

Natasha gave him a serious look. “That doesn’t leave this room.”

“No, never. Your secret’s safe with me.” Steve held up one hand. “On my honor.”

“On pain of torture?” Natasha asked.

Steve winced. “Too soon.”

“You’re not the one who did this,” she said gently.

“I screwed up coming back without making sure the people there were safe.”

“Okay, that’s on you,” she acknowledged. “But you don’t take responsibility for her following you and you sure as hell don’t take responsibility for what they did.”

“Everything he did, I might as well have done myself. I do take responsibility for it. As bad as I felt about leaving, I was okay with it until I found out the person I had put in danger was you. It’s killing me.”

“Steve,” Natasha said softly.

“I love you.” He hadn’t intended to blurt it out but out it had come. “When I saw the portal, I was afraid it was my only chance to come back here. I thought if I let Loki go without me, I’d never see you again. One second of being selfish. You paid for it. I should have stayed. I’m so sorry.”

“Come here.” Her voice was soft but firm.

Steve crept over to the bed like a dog expecting to be struck.

“Look at me.” Natasha put her hand on his arm.

He looked into her eyes as though afraid of what he might see there.

“I forgive you.”

Steve had always believed that the three most powerful words in the English language were ‘I love you’ but in that moment, he knew he’d been wrong. Her forgiveness was the sun breaking through the clouds. The burden he’d been carrying fell loose.

“Can you do that?”

“How could I not?” She stroked his arm. “I can't hate you. I refuse to fear you. I don't want to lose you. You deserve absolution.”

He shook his head slowly. "If you say so. I'd certainly understand if you never wanted to see me again,” he said with a weak smile. 

“I want to see you tomorrow,” Natasha answered. “And the day after.”

“Then I'll see you tomorrow,” he promised. “Rest.”

As soon as he had left, Clint shimmied out of an air vent. “I think Tony made these narrower.”

“You're getting chubby.”

“No, the obvious and far more likely explanation is Tony replacing all the vents with smaller vents just to fuck with me. Did you mean what you said? About forgiving him, not about my weight.”

“I'm sorry, it's because your shoulders are getting so broad," she teased, feigning a fawning tone.

"Nat." Clint adopted a serious tone. "Are you really going to forgive him just like that? You could make him grovel."

"When I first got there,” Natasha’s voice was quiet and sad, “I laid down my weapons and I let them cuff me and take me into custody. I wasn't afraid. I couldn't conceive of a world where Steve would let harm come to me.”

“I'm sorry.” Clint said it instinctively, with an accompanying wince, but he did mean it.

“Now I can imagine it really vividly.”

Clint sat by her bedside. "I think you should consider the grovelling. I bet he grovels like a champ.” He picked up a newspaper. "You got a pen over there? I want to do the jumble." 

In his safe, familiar presence, Natasha slept.


	15. Keep A Candle Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An entire chapter where nothing bad happens! It's just fluff and penguins.

“So, should we go on a date or something?” Steve asked.

“Are you asking me out? Because you’re terrible at it.” She raised one eyebrow at him.

“No. I wasn’t.” Steve cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. “Okay, here goes. Do you want to go out with me? Dinner? Friday night?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to check your schedule?” he joked.

***

Steve took a sip of his water. He pursed his lips. “Um, can I ask about you and Banner?”

“Can I ask about you and Sharon?” Natasha retorted.

“That’s different,” he insisted, not quite meeting her eyes. “That bird never got off the ground.”

“Neither did ours. Bruce’s and my bird didn’t even have wings. I thought it did, but … it was a penguin, it had flippers instead. No hope of flight.”

Steve chuckled at the image. “How so?”

“I guess I thought we had more in common than we did,” Natasha added. “We just wanted different things.” She shrugged. “No hard feelings. Bad timing, maybe.”

“Bad timing, that’s a good explanation of Sharon and I,” Steve said with a nod. “Or maybe it wouldn’t have worked out regardless. It’s weird. I didn’t really feel like I could trust her completely.”

“Why not?” Natasha leaned back, striking a somewhat analytical pose.

“Because she was undercover when we met. She literally isn’t who I thought she was.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows and took a long drink of water. She almost set the glass down but she realized Steve was waiting for her to respond. She lifted it and drank again.

“You’re different,” Steve assured her.

“Am I?”

“When we first met, you were Natasha Romanoff, agent of SHIELD. That is who you are, right?”

Natasha reached for her water glass and Steve gently touched the back of her hand.

“Right?” he prompted.

“Close enough.”

“Intelligent, driven, compassionate, loyal…” Steve began describing her.

“Sharon’s personality wasn’t undercover, just her profession. You’re being unfair.”

“Just her profession. And her reasons for talking to me at all, and what she hoped to get out of every conversation we had. I know you do the same thing when you have to. But you weren’t doing it to me when….” He trailed off.

“When what?” Natasha frowned.

“When I fell for you,” he admitted, looking down at the table bashfully.

“Do you think there’s been a point in our relationship when I was doing that to you?” Natasha asked.

Steve froze. His head came up slowly. “Well I didn’t until now. Has there?”

“No.” She smiled.

It was the first time that Steve was consciously aware of her giving him a fake smile. His brow furrowed.

“Do you believe me?” Natasha asked, that same false grin toying around her mouth.

“You know, I am who I am, one hundred percent, all of the time.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It’s liberating,” Steve countered. “Try it.”

“It’s different for you.” She didn’t have a chance to say more as their waiter set a plate in front of her. She took the opportunity to break eye contact, looking over at the server with a warm smile. “Thank you.”

Steve echoed her words as his food was placed in front of him. As soon as the waiter was gone, he dove back in. “Why is it different for me?”

“Because who you really are is strong and brave, here to save the American way.” She smirked and unwrapped her silverware. “At your core, in your heart, you’re a hero. You always have been; that’s why you were chosen for the project and for the Avengers. You’re a good man.” She met his gaze with a wistful look.

“I don’t think you’re as bad as you think you are,” he said gently.

“You are sunshine, Steve. You’re naturally light and warm and life-affirming. I’m dark and I’m cold, and potentially fatal, but I can keep a candle burning. I can pretend to have light and warmth.”

“It takes a lot of strength and courage to do that. To keep that candle burning. You’re right that being … heroic – whatever that is – comes naturally to me. You fight every day to be more than you are. And that makes you more in my eyes.”

Natasha blinked rapidly and looked down at the table.

“I don’t know if I could do that. You are amazing. You amaze me.”

“Stop.” The word, hoarse and weak, came on an exhalation that trembled.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t. Just don’t. The world’s not going to be any darker for losing the light of one candle.”

“My world would be,” Steve insisted.

“I don’t know how to deal with praise.” Her voice was rough, creaking like an old floor. “Have you noticed that Fury never tells me ‘good job’?”

“I just assumed he was an asshole.”

Natasha giggled, explosive and unchecked. “That’s probably also a factor.”

Steve thought for a moment. “Let’s get boxes and take the food back to the compound. I have more nice things I want to say about you, but I’d rather say them in an environment where you don’t have to meter your reaction on account of an audience.” He smiled at her sweetly. “Does that sound okay?”

***

“You know, I’m not the only one who’d be lost without you,” Steve said as he lifted the styrofoam boxes out of their plastic bag. “We’re going to have to reheat these.”

“Go ahead, I wasn’t planning to even put mine on a plate.” Natasha held up a fork. “Gimme.”

Steve opened one box and peeked inside. “That’s mine.” He slid the other box towards her. “I’m serious. When Ultron picked you up, Clint was one hundred percent ready to jump out of that plane to go after you. If he’d thought for a second that I was coming back without you, he wouldn’t have come back.”

“He’s getting sentimental in his old age, I’ll have to remember to give him a hard time about that.” She dug into her food standing at the kitchen counter. 

“Your light reaches farther than you know.” Steve scraped his food out onto a plate. “I should tell you how I convinced the other Natasha to join me.”

Natasha looked up and raised an eyebrow. “You should?”

“I just told her everything you had done when we were fighting Loki. Saving Clint, recruiting Banner, outsmarting the trickster God himself, closing the portal. I told her that she was going to save the world, and I was there to help.”

“You did more than help,” Natasha replied. 

“I’m a super soldier. If I didn’t use that to help people, I’d be an asshole.”

“That’s an option, plenty of people are.” She watched him for a moment. “If you’re going to microwave that, you might as well eat it cold, it’ll be better. Both is also an option. You can help people and still be an asshole. Look at Stark.”

“Stark’s not that bad. Oven?”

“That’s what I’d do. Except that obviously I’m the sort of barbarian who will just eat food at room temperature.” She stabbed a fork into her food emphatically. 

“At least you’re using a fork. You really are bad at this whole accepting praise thing. Five minutes I was telling you how wonderful you are and suddenly we’re insulting Tony.”

“Steering a conversation is a skill I honed long ago.”

Steve glanced at the oven and got out a fork. “Room temperature it is.”

“Mine’s still warmish.”

“But I’m going to at least sit at the table,” he said. “You’re brave”

“Brave for eating room temperature takeout?” Natasha joined him at the table, getting a glass of water before she sat down. “Do you want to watch a movie after we eat?”

“Brave for saving the world at least three times that I know of without any regard for your own well-being.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Stopping Loki was about saving Clint, not the world, and I owed him that. We could go out or check Netflix?” 

“You didn’t quit once Clint was saved. You saw it through. And we couldn’t have done it without you.” He wasn’t taking the bait for her subject change.

“Of course you could have. I’m thinking Netflix or Blu Ray. I don’t feel like putting my shoes back on.” 

“You’re one of the smartest people I know,” Steve stated. 

“You know Bruce Banner and Tony Stark,” Natasha pointed out.

“I said what I said.” He stared her down. “There’s different kinds of smart.”

Natasha nodded. “For example, I’m the kind that realizes it should be ‘there are different kinds’ and sort of internally cringes.”

“And then you’re also one of the meanest, most sarcastic people I know. And I know Tony Stark.”

“Good one.” She smiled crookedly. 

 


	16. It's Very Modern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The peace can't last. Cracks appear in Natasha's facade and Steve makes a snap decision.

“Friday?” Steve addressed the air. “Where’s Nat?”

“Agent Romanoff is on the fitness floor.”

“Thanks.” He stopped to change into workout clothes so he’d have an excuse to bump into Natasha and headed for the compound’s gym.

In addition to the equipment, there was a generous amount of open floor space. Natasha was standing on the floor, near the wall. She bent one knee and let the tip of the toe of her ballet shoe rest on the floor. Slowly she pressed weight onto the leg. She brought her heel down and repeated the movement on the other leg. She carefully took up a practiced position: heels together, toes out, arms gracefully curved, head up. She brought up arms up in front of her then out to the sides, resting one hand against the wall.

Steve stopped and waited and held his breath.

Natasha drew in a deep breath and rose up onto her toes. Steve smiled as she dropped back into her starting position. He walked forward, pretending to glance casually at her.

“That’s pretty impressive,” he said.

Natasha shrugged. “All the Red Room girls were trained.”

“But you like ballet, don’t you?”

She nodded and tucked her lower lip under her teeth. “I loved it. All the girls were good in a rote way. Madame said I was the only one who had passion for it.” She shrugged. “I guess I still do.”

“I heard on the radio that the Met is opening up a new temporary exhibit on the works of Degas. A painting of a ballerina isn’t really a substitute for dancing, but I thought maybe you’d like to go with me?”

“You’re not getting any better at this whole asking for a date thing,” she observed. “But it sounds nice.”

***

Steve spent nearly an hour at the florist picking out pink flowers for a bouquet. He showered and shaved and combed his hair. He polished his shoes and put on a navy suit. He knocked on Natasha's door with a wide smile, flowers in hand.

“Nat?” He called out, knocking harder. “You ready?”

She still didn't answer. Steve’s smile faltered. He heard the click of the electronic lock releasing. Steve smoothed his tie and put the grin back on his face. The door didn't open. He cautiously turned the knob and pushed the door open.

“Natasha?” He could hear water running inside the apartment. He laid the bouquet on an end table, a frown forming on his brow like a storm on the horizon. He walked slowly, his footsteps silent on the thick carpet. He knocked on the bathroom door. “Nat? Please say something.”

“Come in.” Her voice shook.

Steve opened the door and looked around cautiously. The mirror was white with steam which billowed from the running shower. The curtain hung open, and Steve didn't see Natasha in the shower. Puddles of water led him deeper into the room.

Natasha was huddled on the floor, tucked into the tiny space between the toilet and the wall. She had a towel wrapped haphazardly around her and blood flowing down her face.

Steve reached into the shower and turned off the water. He pulled another towel off the rack. “Nat, what happened? Are you okay?”

He wasn't sure if she nodded or if she was just shaking. He took a knee, draping the towel over her bare legs.

“I had a panic attack. I hyperventilated a little. Enough that I fainted and I hit my head.” She gently touched the still freely bleeding cut above her right eye. “I have one every time I shower. Not usually this bad.”

“Does your therapist know?” Steve asked.

“We're working on it. I thought I was getting better. We reduced some of the meds,” she said softly. “I'm not any better. What if I don't get better?”

“Then you stay on the meds.” The answer was simple enough. “And maybe don't shower alone.”

“Steve, are you offering to shower with me?” Her lips curved into the barest smile.

His ears went pink. “I meant in the apartment, not in the actual shower. Come on out of there, let me see your head.” He held out his hand.

Natasha stared at it. “Give me a minute.”

“Are you okay?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I don't blame you for what happened,” she whispered. She looked at Steve. “I'm not mad at you. I don't hate you. I'm not….” Her voice cracked. “I'm not afraid of you.”

Steve’s hand dropped slowly. “But you are.”

“No. I'm afraid of him. You just happen to look like him and sound like him and, God, Steve, you even smell like him.” She blinked rapidly.

Steve shuffled back without standing up.

“I'm sorry.” There was a certain desperation in her voice.

“No, don’t apologize.” He backed out of the bathroom and called Clint.

***

Steve went back to his apartment and took off the suit. He tore through his bathroom tossing soap, shampoo, deodorant, aftershave and anything else that had a fragrance into the trash. He stood over the sink and stared into the mirror. He stared until his features stopped making sense as a face, then shook his head and found a set of electric clippers. Ten minutes later, the sink was full of hair and he had less than a quarter inch left on his scalp. He stared back into the mirror.

He looked exactly the same, but with shorter hair. He didn’t know what he’d expected. Steve carefully wiped up the cut hair, dumping it into the trash. His eyes kept going back to the mirror.

He realized his mistake as soon as his fist hit the glass. Steve grimaced as shards of mirror went everywhere. He stared at the mess; blood dripped from his hand. Carefully stepping over the worst of it, he picked his way out of the bathroom and found a broom. He was still cleaning it up when he heard someone knock on his door. It was Clint.

The archer stared at Steve for a long moment before he spoke. “So, Nat’s okay. No stitches, no concussion. I mean, I’m not a doctor but between the two of us we’ve had enough head injuries for a full NFL league; I know what to look for. I got her patched up and medicated and put to bed. Cleaned the bathroom, put those flowers in water, were those from you?”

Steve nodded.

“Nice. Made an appointment for her with her therapist first thing tomorrow.” Clint sighed and he sounded exhausted. “So she’s okay. Are you?”

“I don’t know what to do,” Steve admitted.

“Calling me was a good start. I see you went full Britney. What’s with that?”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Full Britney?”

“You shaved your head, dude.”

Steve ran his hand over his freshly cropped hair. “I don’t know. I just wanted to look different.”

“It’s different.” Clint glanced at the wastebasket that was sitting outside Steve’s bathroom. “And you’re giving up personal hygiene?”

“Huh? Oh. I have to replace all that stuff. Apparently I smell like the other Steve, which makes sense. It’d just be easier if I didn’t.”

Clint patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t obsess over this. Get some rest.”

***

“Are you- how are you?” Steve asked.

Natasha looked at him and sighed. “Did you do that because of what I said?” She gestured to his hair.

“No, I’m just updating my look.” He ran his palm over it self-consciously.   


“You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly.

“Does it help? At all?”

Natasha studied him for a moment before answering. “Well, you do look less like him. But you also look less like you. I’m still kind of fond of you."

Steve smiled. "That's good."

"I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

“You really don’t have to apologize,” Steve said.   


“We missed our date,” Natasha observed.

“We could try again.”

***

They went out. They stayed in. They didn’t talk about the other universe. The longer it went undiscussed, the more Steve’s guilt crept back.

“This was nice,” Natasha commented, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I mean, the movie was terrible, but the company was nice.”

“I’m starting to think maybe action movies just don’t hold up well once you’ve actually saved the world a couple times,” Steve agreed.

“It’s still early,” she said. “We can go back to the compound if you want or we could stop somewhere for dessert?”

“I’m pretty much always in favor of dessert.”

“Come on, there’s a place not far from here.” Natasha led him to a diner with half the neon in its sign burnt out. It had scuffed black and white flooring and glossy chrome accents on its burgundy vinyl upholstered booths.

They talked movies over dessert and when they came out of the diner, it had begun to rain.

“You stay here, try to stay dry,” Steve said. “I’ll get us a cab.”

“Wait.”

Natasha leaned in, rising up on her toes to make up the difference in height. Steve froze, and she backed down with an awkward chuckle.

“So, how this works is: I come halfway.” She moved one hand through the air from shoulder width to her centerline. “And then you come halfway.” She brought her other hand up and moved it in until her palms touched. “And there's touching of the lips.” She tapped the middle of her bottom lip with one finger, then pointed to his mouth. “It's called a kiss, it's very modern.”

“We've kissed before,” Steve pointed out. “You thought it was awful.”

“The circumstances were unfavorable. I'm willing to give you a second chance.”

“I don't want to rush things,” he said. He looked down at his shoes.

“This is our sixth date. Virgin sloths move faster.” She ducked into his line of sight. “It's okay. I'm willing to wait for you. Is there something in particular we're waiting for?”

“I -- I kissed the other Natasha. I mean, at the time I didn't know she wasn't you and she kissed me but then I kinda kissed her back.” Steve winced at his own ramblings.

“Well, I'm really me,” Natasha assured him. “So you can kiss me. If you want to kiss me. Unless there's some other reason you don't.”

“I just want you to feel comfortable. I don't want to pressure you or, um, bring up any unpleasant memories.” He desperately wanted to touch her, but it didn't feel right.

“What? Like memories of our last kiss?” She teased.

Steve didn't smile, not even a trace. “I know that the other Steve raped you,” he admitted in a whisper.

Natasha’s playful grin vanished as her face paled. Natasha turned away, stepping out into the rain, eyes cast to the ground. She clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking. “Clint’s got a big mouth,” she finally said.

“It wasn’t Clint. Coulson -- the other Coulson -- mentioned it when he thought I was the other Steve.” Steve waited, but she didn’t respond. “Is there a reason you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to know.” Her bitterness at being forced to state the obvious was apparent.

“It doesn't change how I feel about you,” Steve said.

“Yes it does!” Her head snapped up, and she whirled to face him. Drops of water flew from the tips of her hair. “You can't even bring yourself to kiss me.”

“I just want to be sure that you want me to kiss you,” he objected.

“I initiated! Or at least I tried. There were hand gestures and everything.” She glared at him, but she looked more hurt than angry.

Steve suddenly realized that he had embarrassed her, first with the kiss and then with his hamfisted confrontation. “I’m sorry. I screwed it up. Can we try again? I come halfway, is that right?” He stepped out from the meager shelter of the diner’s eaves and leaned toward her, hunching to make up the height difference.

She glared at him for a long moment. He maintained a hopeful half-smile until he broke through her icy exterior. She sighed and her shoulders sagged, then she nodded.

“And then I come halfway,” she said softly. She let go of her anger and shame and fear as she came in, rising up on her toes and putting her hand on his chest for balance.

“ And there’s touching.” His lips brushed softly against hers. They both moved in closer. She'd had coffee with dessert and he could taste it in her mouth, dark and bitter, as his tongue slipped past her lips. He was warm and welcoming and she didn't want to stop kissing him. She could breathe through him for the rest of her days. Even when his mouth broke from hers, he didn't pull away.  He opened his eyes and looked at her dreamily.  

“Better?”

“There's a reason I believe in second chances.” Natasha brushed an invisible piece of lint off his shirt. “Look, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll try talking to my therapist about it. I just know that ultimately, I have to make my own peace with what happened.”


	17. Recreational Uses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three sparring matches as Nat takes out some pent up aggression

Natasha found Clint in the armory, carefully adjusting the tension on one of his older bows. A glance at her expression told him something was wrong. “What’s up?”

Natasha took a deep breath and pursed her lips, considering the question carefully. “Can we spar?”

“Sure.” He set the bow back in its case. “Things that bad?”

"I just want to feel normal.”

Clint threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and kissing her on the temple. “Well, beating the shit out of each other always makes me feel better. Let’s try that.”  
***

Sam was in the gym when they walked in.

“Hey.” Natasha greeted him with a smile. “Clint and I are going to spar, you wanna take on the winner?”

He really didn’t. But in general, if Natasha asked him to do something, he figured it was a good idea to say yes. “Sure.”

Sam abandoned his workout to watch the two spies square off. They used absolutely no gear. No hand wraps. No mouthguards. Clint wore sweatpants and a t-shirt, Natasha yoga pants and a long sleeved compression top. They both kicked off their shoes before stepping onto the mats. Natasha pulled her hair up into a ponytail.

They shook hands. They’d barely let go when Natasha took a swing at Clint and it was on. Sam watched closely, hoping to find something that would help him in his bout. Clint’s strength was in his arms, he threw fast, powerful punches. Sam knew he was pulling them, but he still winced when one landed. Natasha was quick in general and she used her whole body to fight. He was so absorbed in watching, he didn’t notice Steve until he spoke.

“Who’s winning?”

“Hard to tell, but apparently I’m going to spar whoever it is.”

“Why don’t you take round three?” Natasha called out.

“If that’s what you want,” Steve answered.

Sam gave him a dirty look. “I’m going to throw the match just so I don’t have to fight you.”

“No, you’re not,” Steve said.

“I might,” Clint shouted between dodging kicks.

“You’ve got to get past me first,” Natasha retorted.

Word had somehow gotten out. Tony, Rhodey, Vision and Wanda all filed into the gym to spectate.

“They’re holding back,” Wanda observed quietly.

“Yeah, they’re sparring. They aren’t trying to hurt each other,” Rhodey explained.

Wanda winced. “That looked like it hurt.”

“Tap! Tap!” Clint called out frantically. He was face down on the mat with one hand trapped beneath his body; Natasha had the other pinned behind his back, pressing her knee down on his ribs. She let him up at his shout.

Clint swung his pinned arm around to the front of his body, rubbing his shoulder with the opposite hand and putting the arm through its range of motion. “Okay, next time, no shoulder locks.”

“Sorry.” Natasha swatted his hand off and rubbed his shoulder vigorously, sweeping her hands down his arm. “Are you okay?”

Clint nodded, still grimacing. “You’re up, Sam.”

“Anybody else want to jump in here?” Sam asked. The others shook their heads.

“You got this,” Steve said encouragingly. “It’s just a sparring match. Nothing at stake.”

“Except your pride,” Natasha added unhelpfully. “Ready to get your ass kicked by girl?”

“Are there rules to this?” Sam asked as he stepped onto the mat.

“Do what you think you have to do to win,” Natasha replied. “Are you wearing a cup?”

A horrified look appeared on Sam’s face. “No. I was here to lift.”

“You had time during Clint’s match to prepare yourself.” She mock scowled. “I’ll cut you some slack this once. No groin shots. Next time, wear a cup or I promise you’ll never have to worry about a paternity suit.”

“I’m going to duck into the locker room for a minute,” Steve muttered, backing away from the ring.

“Laura says three’s enough, so….” Clint shrugged.

“If I’d known Laura was done with it, I wouldn’t have gone so easy on you,” Natasha teased.

“That was easy?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“She’s not ‘done with it’ Nat.” Clint put his hand over his crotch protectively. “It has recreational uses. Or it would if Nathaniel would sleep in his damn crib.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Sam. “Any other questions?”

Sam adopted a serious expression and held out his hand. Natasha smirked and shook it. Sam was strong and fast. He was a skilled fighter, but he wasn’t accustomed to her tricks in the way that Clint was. He didn’t fight dirty.

Still, Sam felt like he was doing pretty well right up until Natasha wrapped her legs around his neck and began to squeeze. He tapped out quickly, but he felt lightheaded as she released him.

“Can you teach me that?” Wanda asked.

“No,” Clint answered instantly.

“Yes,” Natasha contradicted him. “I can. I would be happy to teach you anything I know. But you have to promise you won’t try that move when you’re wearing a skirt.”

The younger girl blushed, looking down at her dress. “That’s fair.”

“Steve, you’re up.” Natasha leveled her gaze at him.

“Take a minute to catch your breath,” he said.

“There are no minutes to catch your breath in combat. Get over here.”

Sam moved off to sit on one of the weight benches. Steve stepped onto the mat. Clint’s posture and expression shifted as he watched Steve shake Natasha's hand. He felt like this whole thing had been a ploy for her to spar Steve, but Clint wasn’t sure what to expect.

Natasha’s heart was pounding. She tried to tell herself it was just the exertion of the two previous bouts. There he was: Captain America, the super soldier, pinnacle of human physicality. Barefoot, she came up to his chin.

“It’s like the Cold War,” Tony muttered as the two sized each other up.

“One of you is going to have to throw a punch,” Clint pointed out helpfully.

Natasha gave a slight nod to Steve. “Age before beauty,” she offered with a smirk.

“I can’t get mad,” Steve began. He was interrupted by Natasha’s foot in his solar plexus, knocking the air out of his lungs and making further speech impossible. He saw her coming in out of the corner of his eye, preparing to drop an elbow on the back of his head. He ducked towards, lowering his weight and lifted her over his shoulder. She rolled off his back like a drop of water and hit the mat.

Natasha bounced to her feet, driving her knee into his ribs as she came up. Steve doubled over. She hit him hard in the lower back. He turned to retaliate and narrowly deflected a strike to the face.

Natasha’s expression had an intensity that hadn’t been present for the two other matches. He let her land another blow. His strategy changed. He’d been beaten before. He dodged and deflected some of her attacks. He didn’t throw a single punch. A kick connected with the side of his leg, hard enough to make his knee buckle.

Clint and Sam herded the other spectators out of the gym.

“You’re not fighting back,” Natasha panted accusatorily once they were alone.

“I can do this all day.” His voice was gentle, his expression soft and guileless. He stayed kneeling.

“Get up. Fight back,” she insisted. “Hit me. At least try.”

“Nat.” He lowered his hands.

She slapped him. It was more insult than injury, intended to provoke a reaction. He bowed with the blow like a sapling in a strong wind, catching himself on one hand.

“If it makes you feel better, you can hurt me. It’s okay.” He calmly braced himself to weather the storm.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Natasha said softly. Her hands unclenched.

Steve sagged, sitting down on the mat with his legs stretched out in front of him. “Well, that’s a relief.”

"And it doesn't make me feel better."  She stepped in, straddled his legs and dropped to her knees over his lap. She wrapped her hand around the back of his head and pulled him to her, pressing her lips to his. There was no tender hesitation; it was hot and heady, filled with all the power of the storm he’d been waiting for. It felt the way that rain smells, like renewed life, with the pent-up energy of lightning about to strike. She kissed him in the way he’d always needed to be kissed but never could have articulated.

He was breathless when she pulled away. She stared at him for a long moment.

“He uncuffed me,” she finally said. “He said he knew I was telling the truth about being from another dimension and he unlocked the cuffs and I thought he was going to help me escape.” She shook her head. “He wanted me to be able to fight back when he-” she swallowed hard.

“You want to beat me up some more?” Steve offered. He couldn’t think of what else to say.

She leaned in, burying her face in his chest. He felt a shudder pass through her. She curled her fingers against his chest. “I tried. I fought but it wasn't enough.” She usher past the lump in her throat. “When I had lost, and I was struggling just to save face, he asked if I'd given it my all. If I fought my hardest.”

“You did. You know it wasn't your fault.”

She held her breath a moment, listening to the way his voice rumbled through his chest. “I don't know.”

“Then I'm telling you.” He shifted his weight forward so he could bring one hand up to stroke her back. “It wasn't your fault. And I know you fought harder than anyone should ever be asked to.”

Natasha pressed into his chest more forcefully. “There’s something else I have to tell you.”

“You can tell me anything.”

She straightened up and looked at him. “It hasn't changed the way I feel about you.”

“I thought it was going to be bad news,” Steve replied, a weak smile of relief on his lips.

“It’s not bad, it’s just hard for me admit. After everything he did and how guilty and ashamed I felt and still feel, I still care for you. I don’t know if I’m supposed to hate you or what but I don't. But wanting you, Steve, I’m afraid it means there’s something wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” His voice was soft and deep and full of conviction.

She paused for a moment to absorb his declaration. “You’d be the one person who could make me believe that.”

He kissed her as though he could tell her without words that nothing was more right than the feeling of her hand on his chest, her thighs pressing against his hips, her lips warm on his, the taste of her mouth. He stopped, putting his hands on her hips and easing her weight off him slightly as he realized that an erection and an athletic supporter were mutually exclusive.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he repeated. “I love you.”

“You love me,” Natasha whispered. “You crossed the universe for me.”

“Twice,” he pointed out. “Not that I'm keeping track. You're worth it.”

“Okay,” she snorted softly, dismissively.

“Okay?” Steve echoed.

“Okay, I love you,” she admitted.

“Well, when you put it that way--" Steve half-chuckled. "You don't have to.”

“You make it hard not to.” Natasha smiled. “So now what?” she asked self-consciously.

“Come over tonight, I’ll make you dinner.”

Natasha eyed him. “Is your cooking better than your baking?”

“You said you loved the cupcakes,” he said defensively.

“I loved the sentiment. I’ll bring dessert.”

“My cooking is better than my baking,” he promised. “Bring ingredients, we can make dessert together.”


	18. Dessert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Natasha have dessert

Natasha took a short, hot shower. She dried her hair partway, set it in pincurls, and settled in at her vanity to work on her makeup.

Steve took a short, cold shower. He shaved quickly and put on the same clothes he’d worn earlier, making a mental note to change before dinner. He took quick inventory in the kitchen, got some chicken out of the freezer to thaw, and headed to the store.

***  
Steve spent a few minutes arranging daisies in an assortment of pink hues into a green ceramic vase he’d gotten at an art fair over the previous summer. He flanked the vase with candlesticks only to discover that he didn’t have matches. He had to rummage through the drawers in the common room to find a lighter and had to rush to get dinner started.

He was still wearing faded jeans and a t-shirt emblazoned with the words “American Eagle” that he was pretty sure someone had given him as a joke when Natasha knocked on his door. He looked down at his clothes, sighed in disappointment, and answered it anyway.

“You look stunning,” he said, and she did. “I was going to change into nicer clothes.” He gestured apologetically.

“Don’t bother. You’re not going to be wearing them that long.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Did, um, did bring things for dessert?”

Natasha smiled deviously. She grabbed the front of his t-shirt. “Mmm, did I?” She kissed him fiercely enough that Steve moaned into her mouth.

“Are, uh, are you the dessert?” he asked, almost bashfully.

“You’re more clever than people give you credit for.” She tugged the front of his shirt, pulling him along as she backed out of the kitchen.

He followed willingly, running his hands over her hips to guide her past the countertops, then running them over her again just to feel the warmth of her beneath her clothes. She stripped him of his shirt in the hall, hooking her fingers into the waistband of his pants to continue leading him. She kissed him again as they reached the bedroom. Steve wrapped his arms around her, his hand finding the zipper on her modest, steel-blue dress.

“This is what you want?” he asked, pausing with the metal tab pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

Natasha nodded, her lips slightly parted, her eyes dark and soft.

“I’m going to ask you that about fifty more times,” he admitted.

“I’m okay with that. Yes, this is what I want.” Her fingers brushed his cheek. “I’m sure.”

Steve pulled the zipper down slowly and the fabric skimmed off Natasha’s body, puddling at her feet. He kissed her, his hands warm against her back.

“It clasps in front,” she murmured.

“Hm?” Steve was distracted; he pulled away from the kiss to give her a puzzled look.

Natasha patiently pulled one of his hands from behind her. “The bra.” She put his hand between her breasts. “Unhooks in front.”

He took that as an invitation. He bent closer to examine it, a clever little contraption with a narrow cylinder that fitted into a hollow tube. He needed both hands to work it open. He looked up into her face shyly once he’d figured it out. Natasha was smiling. Not a coy smirk, but barely repressed amusement. She gave him a little nod. He opened the bra slowly, sliding it down her arms.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered reverently.

“Touch me.”

Steve obeyed instantly, exploring her soft skin with gentle caresses. He kissed her neck, her shoulders. She reached to unfasten his pants and he stepped back, pulling out of her reach.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha frowned.

“Humor me? Use your left hand.”

Natasha had an amused, if slightly befuddled look on her face, but she held up her right hand in plain view and reached out with her left. The jeans were designed to be opened by a right-handed wearer, so at least the fly was configured to her advantage as she deftly unzipped them, slipping her fingers into the open zipper to leverage the button open.

“Satisfied?”

“Be a pretty short night if that was all it took to satisfy me.”

“Oh, you’re starting to get the hang of this innuendo thing,” Natasha observed. She tugged his pants down and he shimmied out of them. She showered his chest with kisses, guiding him none too subtly towards the bed. She laid down, and Steve knelt on the mattress, leaning over her.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes.” Her voice wasn’t as soft and husky as it had been when she’d ordered him to touch her, there was a tight thread running through it.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” Steve said gently.

Natasha ran her hand down his arm and wrapped her fingers over his. “Your hands look like his, but it doesn’t feel the same when you touch me. I’m okay.”

He leaned down to kiss her, and she pulled him down on top of her so their bare chests pressed together. She took a deep breath, memorizing his new scent. “I want you.”

He gazed at her. “What do you want me to do?” There was a hunger in his voice and his eyes, both exhilarating and somewhat frightening.

“Touch me. Kiss me.”

“I can do that.” He mapped her body with his mouth, soaking in the taste of her skin through open-mouthed kisses. She laid back and basked in the attention he lavished on her breasts, rubbing his shoulders with lazy strokes.

“That’s nice,” she murmured.

His fingers brushed the front of her panties and Natasha opened her eyes to find him looking up at her for permission. She bit her lower lip and nodded, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and raising her hips off the bed.

He helped her ease the fabric down her legs and off. “Is this what you want?”

Natasha’s answer was to slide her hand up the inside of her thigh. Steve’s jaw fell open; he watched raptly as she touched herself. Her fingers disappeared into the softly shining pink between her legs.

Natasha moaned, arching her back a little, her legs falling further apart. “Give me your hand.”

He offered it hesitantly, holding his hand near hers between her pale thighs. She grabbed him, running his fingers over her folds. She guided his finger to her entrance, pressing down as her hips came up and enveloped the digit in slick warmth. She undulated against his hand, articulating his fingers with hers until she got his thumb positioned over her clit.

“Right there. Now, kiss me,” she said breathlessly.

Steve rubbed small circles with his thumb. She moaned into his mouth as he kissed her.

His kisses ventured down her throat, across her collarbone, her breasts, pausing a moment to worship the little scar on her abdomen. His mouth was poised just above his thumb when a high pitched beep intruded.

Steve froze, then frowned. “Dinner!”

He jumped off the bed, racing into the kitchen clad only in his briefs. He scrambled for pot holders and quickly pulled open the oven. Smoke billowed out. He waved at it, smoke alarm still squealing. He opened a window and tried to guide the smoke out by shaking the pot holders at it.

“I thought you were better at cooking.” Natasha stood in the doorway, wrapped in a bedsheet.

“I am. You distracted me.” He gave her a stern look.

“Oh, so this is my fault.” She set a step stool up below the smoke detector and climbed up.

“This is my punishment for trying to have dessert before dinner,” Steve replied. “It's karmic. Be careful.”

“But now there isn't any dinner. Only dessert.” She quite purposefully let the sheet droop, baring her back as she reached up and silenced the alarm.

“We're going to be hungry later.”

“I'm hungry now.” Natasha licked her lips. She stepped down like Aphrodite descending from Olympus.

He nodded. “Point taken.” Steve turned off the oven and followed her back to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my goal was to get this whole thing posted by year end. And then my "brief epilogue" started to get out of control. So I give you this: my last planned chapter for the MCU. I'm taking a little time off from posting updates to get the AU stuff written, hopefully just a couple weeks.


	19. Personal

“I didn’t, I mean, we didn’t know you’d gone through the portal.” Tony stammered as he set Natasha on her feet. 

“What choice did I have?” Natasha replied. “I told him SHIELD was dangerous.”

“Hey, we came to rescue you. It took a while to figure out where they took you, er, the other you, but we came,” Tony said earnestly. 

“You did?”

“You’re part of the team.” He shrugged, then bent to pick up a piece of paper lying next to the shield. “Hm. I should’ve left him a note.”

Natasha peered over the top of the paper to read the words upside down. She glanced at the strange spidery-looking thing on the shield. “That opens a portal to their world?”

“You’re not going back there,” Tony said firmly. 

“I know that. She has friends there. I don’t.” She looked at the device wistfully.

“You have friends here,” Tony said gently, feeling a bit rejected.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Great, a washed up drunk and a two-bit crook. How lucky can one girl get?”

“I am not washed up. And, at the moment, I’m not even drunk. And Clint’s more than a two-bit crook. He’s a byte, at least.”

Natasha looked at him with a furrowed brow. “You know that’s not what two-bit means, right?”

“Hey, you’re back.” Clint smiled, and it was clearly meant for Natasha. “I would apologize for how long it took for us to rescue you, but I guess you weren’t really in danger.”

Tony frowned. “Where’s Hulk? Did he make it out of the base? Shit, I missed everything.”

“He’s fine. He’s, uh, giving Captain Rogers a piece of his mind.”

“Captain Rogers?” Natasha cocked one brow at him.

“Yeah, so, the man we’d been working with was from the other universe, right?” Tony began. “But Steve Rogers exists in this universe.”

“But he’s a rat bastard,” Clint added.

“And?” Natasha prompted.

“And Hulk’s going to break every bone in his body twice,” Clint answered.

“So we’re going to be here a while,” Tony remarked. He picked up the shield and removed the device, setting it aside for later study. “Lighter than I thought it’d be.” His brow furrowed. 

“Something on your mind?” Natasha asked, tapping away at the screen of her phone.

“Barton? When you say you never miss, that’s guns, thrown weapons, anything?”

“Golf, archery, billiards, laundry hamper, you name it.”

Tony offered up the shield. “Why don’t you step outside and give that a toss?”

***  
Bruce wandered out of the bunker wearing a pair of pants that were several sizes too big and nearly black with blood from the knees down. He held them up with one hand. 

Natasha eyed him for a long moment. “So you can transform in other ways.”

“Yeah, it takes a lot of, um, exertion.” He bowed his head and looked up from behind his tangled mop of curls. “This is awkward. Could we talk privately for a minute?” Bruce glanced sideways at the other two.

“I just remembered I left,” Tony paused, struggling for an excuse, “the lights on inside. Clint, why don’t you come in and help me with that.”

“Yeah,” Clint said agreeably. “Conserving power is important.” He followed Tony at a speed-walking pace. 

“Okay,” Natasha said. “Talk.”

“I should not have pressured you into that,” Bruce began.

“That?”

“The sex,” Bruce whispered.

Natasha raised one eyebrow. “What’s with the sudden attack of conscience?”

“Honestly?” The corners of his mouth pulled down as his brow furrowed.

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

Bruce glanced towards the bunker. “Barton actually genuinely cares about you-”

“You’re apologizing because you violated the bro code?” She crinkled her nose. “I whored myself to you for your help and you’re worried about stepping on his toes?”

“No! I just - I dunno - I guess I, you know, objectified you. He pointed out that you weren’t just an object. So, I’m trying to apologize for treating you like one. And for not realizing on my own what an ass I was being.” He stared down at the grass. “Most of the women I fuck don’t stick around. Or come back. Or survive. Maybe we’ll never be friends but I was hoping we could at least work together. You've got a lot more to offer than just what you offered me.”

“You wouldn’t be the first co-worker I’d slept with,” she admitted.

“I’m not asking you to do it again,” he said.

“I appreciate that. No offense.”

“Does that mean--?” Bruce looked up hopefully.

She shrugged. “I guess we’re cool. Cool?”

****

“I’ve never had shwarma,” Clint sniffed the food cautiously. 

“Me neither,” Tony said. He picked up a paper cup full of soda. “To trying new things.”

“And to making new friends,” Natasha added. 

“To new beginnings.” Clint’s eyes met hers as their cups touched. 

“And happy endings,” Bruce said.

“It’s funny that you think this is over,” Tony replied.

“What do you mean? We defeated Loki and rescued, well somebody, from SHIELD. The world is safe. We’re a team. What else could there be?” Bruce asked.

***

“What do you have?” Phil peered over Hill’s shoulder at her tablet. 

She tipped the screen toward her chest protectively. “We’ve been checking in with Dr Banner’s contacts in Russia but no one’s seen or heard from him yet. Of course, half of them don’t know what he looks like, they’ve only ever dealt with the Hulk.”

“And no sign of him either?”

Hill shook her head. “We’re doing everything we can. Coulson?”

He looked at her. “Hm?”

“I know you want to be involved, and I also know this is personal for you. I’m just worried that maybe it’s gotten too personal.” She touched him lightly on the shoulder. He wasn’t wearing a tie and his shirt was wrinkled. She could see the smudges on his glasses.

“I’m doing my job,” he insisted. “I didn’t ask her about Karen. I didn’t ask her about Grant. I didn’t give her anything she could use to get into my head. I kept the line of questioning professional. We fight Hydra here. You can watch the security tapes; I checked my feelings at the door, maybe you should learn to do the same.”

“And you didn’t enjoy it at all?” 

Phil’s chest swelled with a breath. He pursed his lips in thought. “There’s nothing wrong with taking a little pleasure in one’s work. You should learn that as well.”

***

“Is Rogers still alive?” Natasha asked.

“He was in pretty bad shape when I left,” Bruce said. “I’d hesitate to answer that question without actually checking on him.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Would it kill you to practice a little self control?”

“Hey, he’d been torturing a woman that everyone, including him, thought was you. A little gratitude wouldn’t go amiss here.”

“Everybody thought he was dead. I know someone who’s going to want to see him. If he’s still alive.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Clint interjected. “We can’t hand him over to Hydra.”

“We can’t keep him in my basement forever either,” Tony said. 

“I’m with Clint,” Bruce said. “Hydra’s no better than SHIELD.”

“They won’t kill him, that makes them better than you,” Natasha retorted.

“You didn't see what he did to your doppelgänger. He deserved every bit of what I gave him.”

She glanced at her phone. “Anyway, I’m not talking about Hydra. Is anyone else majorly re-evaluating their entire lives in light of what just happened?”

One by one, Clint, then Tony, and finally Bruce, raised their hands. 

“SHIELD is going to come after all of us now. You three attacked them. If,” Natasha glanced down at the table. “If,” she repeated emphatically, “I don't go back, Hydra will come after me and probably anyone I'm associated with.”

“That's a lot of enemies,” Clint observed. 

“I've contacted one person within Hydra who I think could be another ally. But only if Captain Rogers is alive.”  
***  
That freak with the glowing red eyes had done something to him; Steve wasn't sure what, but suddenly he was in a different cell, confronted by two very angry-looking men. He recognized one, Clark or something like that, as one of his previous captors. The other didn't look like anyone he'd seen before. He was some sort of monster, a gargoyle with grey flesh and deep set eyes. Clark just walked away as the thing attacked. 

He woke up in handcuffs and everything hurt. From his skin down to his bones, Steve was in agony. He'd fought of course, but hitting the grey giant was like punching a mountain. Beaten and hurting, the cruelest twist had come the following day. Armed with broth and bandages, she had come to tend to him. 

She seemed utterly undamaged by everything he'd done at the base. He was wounded and helpless and the sight of her filled him with dread. If she was harboring thoughts of revenge, nothing showed in her actions. She cleaned and bandaged the worst of his injuries. He turned his face away she offered a spoonful of soup. 

She didn't speak to him; she just picked everything up and left him there alone.

***

Two days later, a man appeared at the door of the facility. He was dressed all in black, with collar-length brown hair and anxious brown eyes that greeted each of them with suspicion. “Is it really him?”

“I could tell you half of what I’ve seen and you wouldn’t believe it,” Natasha said. 

“Just show me.”

In a small room underground, Steve lay handcuffed on the concrete floor. His skin was marred with dried blood and yellowing bruises. The smell of dust hung in the still air. Crossing the room felt like wading through molasses. The man’s heart raced, but his feet dragged. Finally, he knelt next to the prisoner.

“Steve,” he said softly. 

Steve’s dulled eyes fixed on the man’s face and the color drained from Steve’s cheeks. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened, growing bright. “B-bucky?”


	20. Lies

“They told me you were dead,” Bucky said softly . “They said SHIELD put you down when they couldn't control you.” He touched Steve's shoulder with a gentle hand. “Jesus, what did they do to you?”

 Steve's eyes flicked to the unassuming man with graying curls. 

 “I thought you were killed during the war.” Steve struggled to sit up. He cowered behind Bucky. 

 “Killed? No, Steve, I was saved.” He wrapped one arm around his friend, helping Steve to a kneeling position. “Can we get these cuffs off him?”

 “No,” Clint said impassively. He watched the reunion from the doorway.

 Bucky glared at him, his eyes narrowed to slits behind the dark curtain of his hair. 

 “What about the others?” Steve asked. “The Howling Commandos, Howard, Peggy; Coulson told me they’d all been killed by Hydra.”

 Bucky’s head snapped around to study Steve. He shook his head in disbelief. “Not by Hydra,” he answered. “Not most of them.”

 “But some of them?” Steve gave him a solemn look. 

 Bucky glanced down at the floor. “I didn’t have a choice. Stark was the one who killed Peggy, I had to-”

 “Bullshit,” Tony proclaimed. He’d been listening closely since Steve had asked about Howard’s death. 

 “Tony,” Natasha said gently. “Your father wasn’t the man you thought he was.”

 “Look, I certainly didn’t think he was a saint,” Tony replied. “He was far from perfect. But he didn’t kill Peggy Carter.”

 “He did,” Bucky insisted.

 “She’s alive.”

Steve gaped. “She’s...alive?”

 “Can we see her?” Bucky asked.

 “No.” Tony crossed his arms over his chest.

 “Why not?” Bucky stood. He was taller than Tony by a fair measure. 

 “Fury lied.” Steve sagged. “Everything I’ve done, it was for a lie.” He trembled and looked at Natasha. “I tortured -- ”

 “That wasn’t even me,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes. “Maybe in her world, she really did kill Polly.”

 “Peggy.” Tony corrected her automatically. He didn't take his eyes off Bucky.

 Steve was staring at the floor. “I beat her,” he whispered.

 “You had to what?” Tony's voice was low, he was trying too hard to keep calm. “When Hydra told you that my father killed Peggy, what did you have to do?”

 “Broke her bones.” Steve stared blankly straight ahead, talking mainly to himself.

 Bucky froze and swallowed hard. “I thought -- You’re lying. Stark was a traitor. He couldn’t be trusted and neither can you.”

 The face plate slid down and snapped into place. Tony fired a repulsor blast that knocked Bucky into the far wall. 

 “No!” Steve scrambled to his feet, snapping out of his daze. 

 Natasha planted her hands on his chest, holding him back as Tony charged towards Bucky. He swung and Bucky caught his fist with a metal hand. He squeezed until the gauntlet began to crumple under the stress. 

 “Stop, both of you!” Natasha shouted. “All of you!” She glared at Steve. 

 Bucky’s grip loosened. 

 Tony yanked his hand back and punched him again; this time he connected with Bucky’s jaw. It had been a long time since anyone had hit Bucky that hard. He tasted blood. Bucky’s face fell blank, his eyes as cold as the mechanical gaze of Tony’s armor.

 Every time Bucky came in swinging, the repulsors knocked him back. Steve shouldered his way forward, shoving Natasha into the middle of the conflict. 

 “Stop!” Clint shouted, trying to get Tony’s attention. 

 The chain holding Steve’s wrists together snapped. Bruce watched for a moment. Bucky punched Steve, knocking him into Natasha, Tony tripped over them and hit Clint. It was a disaster. Bruce kicked off his shoes.

 “Do I need to get involved?” He hollered. The deep rumble edging his voice got everyone’s attention. 

 Tony held up his hands and the faceplate went up. “No.” He glared at Bucky. “But this isn’t over.”

 “James, Zemo lied to you. Don’t you see?” Natasha looked at Bucky pleadingly. “Tony’s not a bad man, but Tony, your parents’ death wasn't his fault either. You have to listen.”

 “Was it yours?” Stark’s dark gaze fell on her.

 “Zemo,” she said, holding up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “We’re friends, Tony, aren’t we? Zemo’s to blame. We--”

 “Hydra deal with traitors very harshly, Natalya.” Bucky grabbed her arm, roughly pulling her to her feet. “This isn't a path you want to walk,” he warned.

 “They lied about Rogers. They lied about Carter. Who knows what else they’ve lied about?” Natasha said. “How can you stay loyal to them when they let you think your friend was dead?”

 “They saved my life! They saved your life.”

 “They prevented my death. What they gave me wasn’t a life. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life killing who Zemo tells me to kill and fucking who Zemo tells me to fuck. I think I can aspire to something more.”

 “Yeah, and a pig can aspire to be a princess,” Bucky scoffed.

 In the hall a light began to flash and the sound of a klaxon filled the air. 

 “What’s that?” Clint asked, looking around warily.

 “The alarm,” Tony replied. “Jarvis?” He tilted his head, listening to something inside the helmet. “SHIELD is here.”

 Steve grabbed Bucky’s arm. “Did Hydra kill Agent Coulson’s wife?”

 “What? Really, Steve, now?”

 “He’s coming. They didn’t kill you, they didn’t kill Peggy. Did they kill her?” Steve swallowed hard. “Did you kill her?”

 Bucky glanced anxiously at the door and noticed that everyone seemed to be waiting on his answer. “Karen Shmidt was Hydra. She was supposed to be undercover at SHIELD, even going so far as to marry one of her colleagues. Then she turned. She betrayed Hydra and she paid for it with her life. I wasn’t involved.”

 “And their son?” Steve asked. 

 “Is alive. Can we table this? There are going to be people shooting at us any minute now and I’m unarmed.”

 “Guys? We really don’t want to be trapped in this bunker,” Tony said. “And Hydra is also here.”

 “You were followed.” Natasha glared at Bucky accusingly. 

 Hulk cracked his neck and his knuckles. “Most of the weapons are upstairs. Tony and me are going to be the best shot at reaching them, so stay close to us.” He took off down the hallway at a slow lope. Amid a hail of gunfire, he charged into the first group he encountered. 

 Tony used his repulsors to buy them some time as the others quickly armed themselves. 

 “Red Skull is here,” Bucky announced, switching on his communicator. 

 “You’re in on their comms.” Steve quickly turned on his as well. He listened for a brief moment. “SHIELD is split into two teams, Coulson’s leading the main charge, but they’re flanking the building.”

 “That rear flank is going to run up against our people,” Bucky said. 

 “Maybe they’ll start fighting each other.” Clint could only hope. 

 Steve and Bucky immediately began working together, fighting in tandem and watching each other’s backs as though no time had passed at all. The others weren’t quite as fluid, still getting the hang of being a team. 

 Steve’s leg gave out as a bullet grazed the edge of the shield and buried itself in his thigh. Bucky knelt at his side, pressing his hands over the wound. “We’re outnumbered, we can’t win.”

 Natasha fought her way towards Coulson; she didn’t stop until the barrel of his gun touched the skin of her jaw. She spoke before he could. “Your son is alive.”

 Instantly, she saw the older man waver. “Grant?”

 “He’s here. On this very battlefield. I could point him out to you.”

 Phil’s eyes flickered over the Hydra soldiers advancing around the bunker. “Where?” He lowered the pistol. 

 Natasha raised a rifle and Coulson put his hand on the barrel. 

 “What are you doing?”

 “Using the scope,” she replied. “I want you to get a good look at his face.” She put the rifle on his shoulder, her cheek to his so they could trade glimpses through it. “He looks like you did, when you were young.”

 “Where?” He frowned through the scope. 

 Natasha carefully adjusted their aim. “There. With the red scarf. He has Karen’s eyes, doesn’t he?”

 She could tell from the man’s posture when he recognized the Hydra leader. She slid her hand along the rifle.

 “That’s him,” Phil whispered. “That’s my son. That’s Grant.” He tilted his head for another look. 

 Natasha slipped her finger into the trigger guard and squeezed.

 “No!” Coulson took off at a run towards the body of his fallen son, leaving the rifle in Natasha’s hands. 

She took up aim at his retreating back and waited. She timed her shot so he would fall beside the Red Skull, great grandson of Johann Shmidt. 

 With both SHIELD and Hydra suddenly missing their leadership, the tide of the battle began to turn in favor of the Avengers. Neither side had brought enough men to deal with the Hulk and fear infiltrated their ranks. They began to flee. 

 “They’ll be back.”

 Natasha swung the rifle towards Clint when he spoke. “Don’t startle me like that,” she warned. 

 “More of them. More guns. New leaders,” Clint added. 

 “Just because we can’t win doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fight.”

 “Actually, I was more thinking that we should recruit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deliberately leaving things rather open-ended here. I have too many ideas for the AU and not enough desire to actually write them at the moment.


End file.
